


Never Letting Go

by annieke



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieke/pseuds/annieke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Danny first met his neighbor, Eddie, he thought he was a pretty nice guy. Easy going, neighborly.<br/>Lately, though, Eddie seems to be around--a lot. A whole lot.<br/>Danny's getting a little tired of it, and Steve? Steve's a lot tired of it. of him. 'Eddie the Stalker' just needs to go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting in parts as it's coming back to me from beta, but I did want to start posting on January 1.  
> Happy New Year, btw!  
> **  
> Originally intended to be a big Bang fic (well, blew that deadline, sadly) and inspired by a prompt from SBG that I now can't seem to find...basically, Danny has a neighbor who's getting a bit too friendly. Way too friendly.
> 
> If you're interested, Eddie also appears in two of my other stories:  
> Make Me Soup and Pastry Suite, but you don't need to read those to understand this one.
> 
> Many thanks to Rnee' for the help.
> 
> SBG, the Stalker fic is finally coming. I can only hope this is worth the long, long wait.

There are papers stacking up in his printer output tray, hard copies of closed cases that need to be filed. The pile is growing sheet by sheet, and he stares at each piece of paper as it prints, trying to focus his thoughts there instead of where they keep drifting, back there at home with-- 

"Steve. How's it going?"

"Oh, hey, Chin. Mornin'. Howzit?" Steve waves a hand in greeting, eyes still scanning the screen of his computer, not that he's really registering anything there. Just opening files and pushing print for hard copies with no real thought as his brain travels along a wavelength pointed in a completely different direction.

"No, Steve," Chin is saying and Steve looks up at the sharper inflection. "I mean really. How is it going?"

A loaded question, Steve thinks. He drops his head, rubs a hand over his forehead and tells himself he’s not getting a headache already. Not this early. "Better."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," he assures Chin and thinks that much is true. Danny is better than he was, which isn't really saying all that much unless you happened to have seen him—which Chin has, so, "Yeah, it is--he is. Danny is better."

"Steve." Chin's arms are crossed and he’s emanating the vibe he throws at suspects who he's sure are hiding something.

"What?" Steve sighs, shaking his head. "He is better, getting better, anyway. I mean—he is.” What more can he say? That Danny still has to have the lights on all the time? That in the middle of the night Danny sometimes wakes up and shoves him away with a look of fear, only to cling to him like a limpet later? "I don't--I don't know, Chin. You saw what he was like—you were there. You heard him. I know he's better than he was, but he still--he still looks--"

"Haunted?"

Which isn't funny at all, and he gives Chin a look. 

"I don't mean that the way it sounds, Steve. I think I mean more like, like he's…"

"No, I know, Chin. I know. Still, though, he's--he is better." For the most part, it's true. Danny is better. He's come a long way since two weeks ago, an infinitely longer way in just the past three days. Seems to be almost back to himself, which is saying something for progress. Until the dark of night falls, that is. Until his mind starts unraveling.

Chin's standing right next to him now, his eyes filled of warmth and _ohana_. "We're here to help. Me. Kono. We were there, too, remember? He's all of ours, Steve. You know that."

"Yeah," Steve tells him, nodding, watching Chin make his way out the door. "And Chin? He knows that, too."

Chin pauses at the door, then nods once and leaves.

Steve leans back in his chair, eyes searching the dark and empty office across from his. He wonders if Danny's awake yet. What he's thinking.

**

What Danny is thinking is how much he doesn't want to go to another meeting with the psychiatrist, if only because he's so damned tired this morning. The last session left him feeling completely weirded out and pretty much drained when it was over. 

While the sessions are helping--he feels so much more like himself than even just a few days ago--he still hates having to discuss it all with someone whose job is pretty much to analyze him like a bug. It’s not like he really remembers all that happened, anyway, or what was real and what wasn't. Doesn't particularly care for delving into the how or why it is his ‘psyche’ turned the event into his own personal mini-horror story.

Still...he is better.

Hasn't had to take a sedative in the past two days, so that's a plus, though he's still having some trouble falling asleep, sometimes staying asleep when he does manage it. Hasn't punched Steve in his sleep either, at least not for the past couple nights so he'll take that as a win. Pretty sure Steve will, too.

Steve. Steve's been pretty fucking amazing in the wake of it all considering Danny's still somewhat of a nutjob, that is.

He flushes the toilet, turns on the shower, and tosses his t-shirt on the floor. Glances in the mirror which, whoa. Maybe it's just the lighting--or maybe not. Dark circles still create shadows beneath his eyes. The bruising along the side of his face has finally faded enough to not stand out in startling contrast but still gives him a sickly undead look. He looks green. Pasty. Pale. Godawful.

The wound is clean now although still fairly angry looking, and he winces a little just looking at what he can see of it because it looks like it hurts which then does makes it hurt, though not nearly as viciously as when it happened. A gentle probe around where the stitches were just removed doesn't make him cringe to the point of vomiting anymore, but he really hates looking at it. Hates it so much.

Steam begins to cloud the mirror, and he gladly steps into the shower and lets the hot water sluice its way to easing too tense muscles. Loves this shower of Steve's, much nicer than any of those in his varied and sundry and yeah, pretty grim, apartments, and it's a shame he'll have to find a new place given his current one is so perfect. Was perfect.

Wishes Steve was there with him. Wishes he was standing right in front of him with his, his--

Wait--was that a noise? Was that—what was that?

He heard something. Is sure he heard something. Stills under the water, frozen where he stands straining to hear--and, this is ridiculous, there isn’t anything. There can’t be and he issues up a softly tentative, “Steve?” 

Knows it’s not him. Steve’s at work and this—what he heard—is someone else. Something else. Something else here with him, right here in the bathroom, just on the other side of the curtain and he hates how his hands are shaking—he’s going to be sick, because it’s there, it’s there—oh, please, God, please let it not be there.

Whips the curtain aside, half tearing it from its rings and rearing back in anticipation because he knows what he’s going to see--and Jesus. He’s going to give himself a heart attack at this rate because there’s nothing, of course there’s nothing. Nothing. No one. Fucking hell, he's going to pass out if he doesn't slow his breathing.

Nothing is here with him. No one. He knows that, of course he knows that, and when the laughter comes he can't stop. It just bubbles up and out and he's choking on it but he can't stop because it's just a hair's breadth fall to crying and he so doesn't want to be there again. He clenches his hands, turns up the hot water and leans his forehead against the tiled wall.

Fucking hell. Was it really only a few weeks ago when this all started? Only a few weeks ago when he was still sane . . . 

**

"What's this?"

Danny turns to find Steve walking into his apartment, holding up a little box. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Danny replies with a shake of his head and a not so annoyed frown because it's not like he hasn't told the guy fifty times to knock it off. He waves a dismissive hand. "Nothing. I don’t know… pastries, probably."

Steve frowns. "Let me guess. From Eddie."

Eddie, Danny's upstairs neighbor and continual pain in the ass. "Yeah, Eddie. I've told him to stop, but he just—" He nods toward the pink box and knows Steve knows what he's talking about. Eddie's been dropping the occasional treat off for Danny over the past couple of months, ever since the new bakery opened down the road. He's repeatedly asked Eddie to stop doing it, but clearly the message is getting lost somewhere.

"He did quit bringing them in person, though. So there's that." Which stopped after Eddie inadvertently walked in on him and Steve liplocked together a few weeks prior, which was embarrassing for all around, actually. Well, except, apparently, Steve, Danny thinks, who even in the face of an up close and personal voyeur during that pretty intense kiss—Eddie—seemed to delight in the shocked reaction from the man. He waves toward the little bakery box. "Now he just drops them off without notice. I find one of these little boxes outside my door once or twice a week, sometimes. Guy's nutty."

Steve's frowning, his fingers working the box open to pull out a gooey looking treat which he then examines as if it were the hottest evidence in their latest case. "You know, you'd think good ol' Eddie would get the hint that you are mine and stop trying to weasel next to you with pastry."

"Yours. Really. Wow, how very not-so-equal partnership sounding of you, you complete control freak."

"Danny, just, it's—I mean, he's trying to buy you with sugar."

"Oh for—he's just being nice, Steven. He isn't trying to buy me."

"Oh, no?" Steve holds up the sweet pastry. "What do you call this, then?"

Danny grabs it and bites it in half. "Breakfast."

**

The thing is, despite that it should be pretty obvious to Eddie that Danny's in a relationship with Steve (regardless as to what level or depth that relationship is currently floating; Eddie's not aware, and Danny's still trying to figure out where it is he and Steve are headed) Danny's pretty convinced that Eddie just doesn't really give a shit.

The pink boxes still arrive every couple of days, and no matter how many times Danny 'thanks, but no thanks' Eddie, the man still persists. It's flattering on one hand, Danny will admit, and honestly, okay, there's nothing sweeter than having Steve work out his possessive nature on him whenever they run into Eddie or Steve discovers whatever latest gift it is that's been bestowed.

Still, Danny's not encouraging Eddie—at least, he's pretty sure he's not, even if he does enjoy the hell out of having Commander Control-issues wrap arms around him in a clear show of ridiculous alpha male territorial dominance. And okay, now and again, he does enjoy pushing Steve's possessive buttons by casually dropping a hint that Eddie has been sniffing around again just to watch the expressions that flit across Steve's face—but in no way is he actively playing with Eddie's crush just to mess with Steve. No.

In fact, as harmless as Eddie is, Danny's starting to get pretty tired of the unrequited attention. The bakery gifts and other little trinkets Eddie keeps offering his way have got to stop. Like now, he thinks as he bends to pick up three ribbon-tied stems of anthurium attached to a small bag of cookies that someone— _someone_ , yeah, right—has placed on his front door 'welcome' mat. A welcome mat that reads, _go away_ , and is one he purposely bought with Eddie in mind.

So, really? What man gives another man flowers? Plus, while he remembers Kono telling him a while ago that these particular flowers are a gift of hospitality, frankly, all he sees is that they look pretty stinkin' phallic.

He sighs as he tosses the flowers into the trash along with the cookies. Well, most of the cookies, but still. 

**

Steve stands hipshot against the Camaro, trying hard not to glance again at his watch but what the hell is taking Danny so long, anyway? They'd already called in the order, should be an easy run in, pick up the sandwiches, grab a few drinks and bam, done. They should be back to the office and eating already. He's starving here.

"Oh, hey—Colonel?"

Colonel—what? Something in his stomach turns at the sound of that voice and hell no, not that guy, not… "Ed."

"Yeah, hey. I thought that this looked like Dan's—this is Danno's car, right? And, well…you."

Eddie's right in his space, up front and center, looking straight into his eyes and kind of flexing his muscles under his shirt. It's just weird. If Steve didn't know better, he'd say Eddie was issuing some sort of challenge, and that strikes him as a little strange and a lot annoying. He leans a little more onto the car, one hand splayed flat against the hood. 

"Yeah, it's _Danny's_. Drives like a dream, too." Smiles huge, then adds, "It's Commander, by the way."

Their eyes hold for a long beat, and then Eddie seems to take a breath as if on the verge of saying something, but looks around instead. Then, "So … Danno around?"

"Gone to get us lunch," Steve tells him, studying him for a minute. Eddie's not a bad looking guy. Nice face. Dark hair, broad shoulders. Stands somewhere between him and Danny in height, just under six foot or so, which means Steve's still got a little height on him and it makes him stand straight up for a minute, so he towers a bit over Eddie. Just because he can. He offers up a barely-there smile. "Something I can help you with?"

Again, they hold eyes for a few long beats. The expression 'shifty-eyed' comes to mind; god, he doesn't like this guy.

"No, not really," Eddie's saying. "I just—Danno and I, we talked about getting together."

"Today?"

"No—soon, though. Like Friday, Danny said—probably."

"Really." Steve just looks at him. Crosses his arms and watches the man. Resists the urge to give the guy a shove away from him and the car and he doesn't, but oh, he wants to so bad.

Eddie offers up a half smile and suddenly that song _Creep_ rolls through Steve's head— _I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here?_ —and he thinks, yeah, Ed. You're a creep. You're a weirdo. What the hell _are_ you doing here?'

Eddie gives the street one more glance, then back to Steve. "So, just—tell Danno—just tell him I'll catch him later."

"Sure," Steve says and nods, watching for a few seconds as the guy moves away, then calls out after him, "It's Danny, Ed. Not Danno."

**

"Here." Danny hands Steve his hot dog with that vile concoction of pineapple and mango salsa spread all over the top. Ruining a perfectly good lunch.

"Not hungry," Steve tells him as they both slip into the car. "I'll eat later."

He can't help but stare at Steve, mouth agape. "Seriously? You're gonna sit there and tell me you're not hungry after all that shit about how you're starving, making me order lunch from this place because they have the best Puke dogs—

"Puka dogs."

"Whatever—and now you're not hungry?" Steve's staring straight out the windshield, vision locked onto the red stop light beaming down on them and Danny barely resists the urge to just thump him in the head. "Are you shitting me?"

"I'll eat it later."

"Later. Oh, okay. Never mind you made me come down here to pick this up. Never mind that forty minutes ago you were starving. 'I'm starving', you said. 'It's not even noon', I said. 'Who cares', you said, because you were starving and had to have a hot dog—no, _this_ sham of a hot dog. Right then. Right now."

"Danny, just let it go. I'll eat it later—and don't knock it. The Puka dog is one of the best things you'll ever put in your mouth. Ever. Trust me, I'm not going to let it go to waste."

He's aghast. "Best things? Oh no, my friend. You are sadly, sadly mistaken if you think that thing is one of—no. Just, no." Starts ticking off his fingers. "Pastrami and rye from Katz's. Tony's pizza. Double-cheeseburger with the works from the diner around the corner of my old precinct—those are all worthy of being called the best." He waits a second, then, "And my dad's mom's chicken and dumplings. Irish chicken and dumplings, now that is one of the best things you could ever hope to eat in your lifetime."

Danny double-takes as Steve's not saying anything, is just staring at him, then Steve says, "You feel very strongly about this, I take it."

Nods. "I do."

"Uh-huh. Always thought your mother's lasagna was—"

"That, too." He raises one finger. "And do not even think of disparaging my mother's lasagna."

"I would never," Steve says. "You are very food-oriented, like I've said before. Very particular about what goes into your mouth. Almost like you have a strong oral-fixation or something."

"Oh, you are hilarious." Okay. Okay. Can't miss the smirk on Steve's face, which he chooses to ignore because, really, he's talking about his Nana here. "How 'bout this? How 'bout I make you dinner?"

"Really—you? You don't know how to cook."

"Ah—I'll have you know I've been at my Nana's side many times, helping."

Steve's smiling. "Okay. You make me that chicken with dumplings thing, then."

Something in his brain trips him and in the next second, Danny hears himself agreeing. To cook. For Steve. "Okay, okay. You're on. Tomorrow, I'll cook for you."

"I'll save up my appetite." Steve sounds too delighted, and Danny's already wishing he'd never said anything about the stupid Puke dog.

Cooking. Which means he'll have to call his Nana tonight, go shopping tomorrow…how the hell does he get himself into these things? 

He's already thinking he's going to have to buy a big cook pot before he does anything else. Sighs some, then, because he already knows this is going to be harder than he thinks. Settles a little lower in the passenger seat and grabs a french fry out of the bag of food settled by his feet as he mentally compiles a checklist—cooking dinner, well shit. Stares out the window at the people on the street while visions of thick dumplings dance across his brain.

Honest to god, he swears he sees his neighbor, Eddie, meandering along, and, oh, god, looking his way. He shoves himself even lower into the seat before he even realizes he's done it.

"What are you doing down there?"

Steve's looking down at him and yeah, Danny can guess he probably looks a bit awkward. "I'm—relaxing," he tells him with a wave of a hand. "It's a novel idea. You should try it sometime."

Steve just shakes him head and Danny pushes himself back upright, hand reaching for the lunch bag of food that he now realizes he's completely crushed when he ducked down to hide from Eddie.

It's going to be a long day, he can tell.

**

"You." Kono's look of disbelief is irritating at best.

"Yes, me. Why not me? What, you don't think I can do it?"

She's laughing now. "No, Danny. I mean, it's just—you've never mentioned you could cook, and now you've offered to cook Steve an entire dinner? All by yourself?"

"Yes, all by myself. I can."

"Not grill. Cook."

"Yes, cook. I can cook." He rolls his eyes. Just had this same conversation with Chin about an hour before, and Steve's still convinced he's going to come over and find pizza on a plate instead of his Nana's chicken and dumplings.

Kono's still laughing at him. "Okay, okay. You can cook. I believe you."

"Thank you." It's not inconceivable. It's not.

She's staring at him thoughtfully though. "So did I ever mention my two cousins who work for the Honolulu volunteer fire department? Just sayin'."

He frowns back at her, but then can't hide the laugh as he leaves the room because in all actuality, once he starts cooking, he may need them.

**

Finally, after way longer at the grocery store than he thought he'd be, Danny's ready to check out. His basket is full of everything Nana told him to buy, but he can still hear the tinge of skepticism in her voice when he told her why he wanted her recipe.

"But, Daniel, honey—you don't cook."

Now as he stands in line at the market, his confidence is waning. God, the things he does for McGarrett.

"Danno? Hey!"

Eddie. What the hell? The guy seems to have a knack for showing up everywhere Danny goes anymore.

"Ed."

Eddie's just grinning at him, and Danny wishes he'd stop.

Thing is, when he first met him, he thought Eddie was just a nice guy trying too hard to make friends. Danny kind of liked him then; they're both from the same area back home, more or less, and that was fun, initially, when they could compare notes of mutual favorite places.

Eddie's not a bad looking guy, either—not at all. Reminds him a little of Steve, actually, minus the tattoos. Like they could be distant cousins or something, not that he'd ever say that to anyone out loud, no. Coloring like Steve, sort of similar build. Nice face. Probably why he's tolerated Eddie to a point thus far; his mind has settled on some sort of Steve connection thing, even though, aside from looks, there really isn't one. Actually, Steve can't stand Eddie at all.

"Lotta groceries you got there; you planning a party or something?"

They're both staring at the contents of his full to the top basket. "Uh, no—nope. Just doing a little shopping." Danny's starting to despise the look on this guy's face. Eddie seems to have a certain smile that looks like something Danny's seen on not just a few criminals. Creepy, is what it's starting to look like to him.

"Oh, yeah. Okay," Eddie says and then just stands there rocking back and forth on his heels. "Me, too. I got a lot of stuff to buy here, too."

"Okay, well, if you don't mind—" Danny kind of bumps into him so Eddie'll get out of the way of the conveyor belt. The cashier is looking a little irritated that they're holding up the line. He starts unloading his cart, all the while wishing the man would just go away.

"So, we're still on for getting together, right, Danno?"

Wishes he would stop calling him Danno, too. "Uh, Eddie, I'm not so sure when—"

"Oh, that's okay. Doesn't have to be tonight or anything. Maybe next Friday, though, a'right? I'll check you later before then."

"No, I—"

Eddie's not hearing him, though. Is glancing at his watch and taking off out the door with a brief squeeze to Danny's upper arm.

Danny's too absorbed with mentally double-checking his grocery list to even notice that Eddie's walked out of the store without buying a single thing.

**

“Chin, hey. What’s up?” Danny hits the speaker button with his one semi-clean knuckle and sets the phone down on the kitchen counter next to where he's working elbow deep in cut up chicken breasts. He's already started to cook dinner for Steve and can only hope he doesn't screw it up. Why he even thought this was a good idea, he still doesn't know, but he's never backed off from a challenge.

“Hey, Danny. Burn the place down yet?"

"You, Chin Ho Kelly, are not a funny man."

Chin laughs. "Who says I was joking? Good luck, is all I'm gonna say, but hey, I wanted to let you know we apparently just got a couple hits on some of those fingerprints on the Kapana murder. Fong’s been working overtime on this one.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Danny said, nodding although not like Chin could see him. “It’s a tough thing when the vic is that young.” He drops the now sliced chicken into a bowl, trying hard not to think about the image of the dead body of the young woman that had been discovered over the weekend. Covers the bowl and sets it in the fridge. “That's great something came in so fast. So who are our lucky winners?”

“First, Tino O'pua. Has a couple priors for some small stuff. He and the next guy, Artie Reagan, also with priors, were seen with her late Saturday night. They're our number one and two right now."

“Yeah, okay. Good. Sure as shit one of those two knows something." There's a knock at his door, which is a little odd as Steve usually barges right in, and with his daughter out of town, the only other person who might stop by is currently talking to him on the phone. Runs his hands under the water, then grabs a towel to dry them as he heads to the door, still half focused on what Chin is telling him.

"So those two, plus the names of a couple others in her circle. All had some connection with the vic over the past two days, either social or in business, and I think tomorrow Kono and I are—"

"Chin, hold up. I got someone at my door."

It's Eddie, and he's bleeding.

"Eddie?"

"Hey, Danno. I, uh, was hoping that you gotta minute? I think I need a little…"

"Chin. I gotta call you back, man." He hangs up and slips the phone into his pocket as he presses the towel in his hand to Eddie's bloody face. "Jesus, what happened to you?"

Eddie's hand then covers his, holds them both there, pressed against his face and just looks at Danny for a long, weird beat until Danny pulls his hand away. What the hell was that?

Another beat and Eddie seems to shake himself, pushes into the apartment now, and heads toward Danny's kitchen. "I got into a little jam, looks worse than it feels, but I don't have any ice. You got some ice I can have? Maybe a beer?"

"Ice? Yeah. I got ice." 

Eddie's wrapped the towel around a few cubes of ice from the freezer and is holding it to his head. "And that beer?"

Danny just shakes his head and nods to his 'fridge. "Oh, sure. Beer." Watches as Eddie grabs one. "Think you ought to go see a doctor about, you know, that?" He traces a finger around his own face, mirroring what he's looking at on Eddie's and it's a rhetorical question, anyway.

Eddie's smiling through a ghastly thread of blood trailing down the right side of his face, seemingly not minding that it's there, though, or that his right eye is already half swollen. There's a nasty gash on his temple.

"Doctor? Nah—I don't need no stinkin' doctor," Eddie replies with a loud bark of a laugh, then looks back to Danny again. "Hey, you think maybe you could just slap a band-aid on it for me, though?" Eddie asks, lifting the bloody towel and lightly fingering the area.

"Geeze, don't touch it." Danny grabs the towel, refolding it around the ice and pressing it back to Eddie's temple. He takes up Eddie's hand and places it against the towel. "Here, put pressure on it and I'll get my first aid kit." 

"Thanks, Danno," Eddie says. "It looks worse than it is. Guy got me with his ring, I think."

Danny rolls his eyes over the 'Danno'. "Just Danny. Please," he mumbles, and not for the first time as he comes back from the bathroom, first aid kit in hand. "Gotta tell you, Ed, it looks pretty horrific." He slides a pair of latex gloves over his hands, then opens a pad filled with medicated cleanser and sets about cleaning the wound. "What kind of fight did you get into?"

Eddie hisses a bit, hands fisting. "You know that jackass who lives in the next building. The one who you hate."

Danny's digging for a couple butterfly bandages. "Who do I hate? I don't hate anyone."  
He finds two and starts pressing the edges of the cut together.

"Yeah, you do. That guy who parked so close to the Camaro a few weeks back. You remember, you got into it with him."

"Who, what? What guy did I get into it with?"

"Danny. You know, that guy—" Eddie starts talking slowly, as though Danny were having a hard time following along. "He parked next to you and dented your car. You lit into him. How do you not remember that?"

"Wait, that guy? I didn't get into anything with him; that guy's huge. Besides, it was hardly even enough to be called a door ding. Hell, Steve does more damage than that on a daily basis. Him? You got in a fight with him? Why?" Danny gathers the bloody towel and trash and shoves it and the gloves into a plastic bag. This guy is a piece of work. He swears he hears Eddie mutter 'Steve' under his breath.

"Eddie, what?"

"Nothing. Listen, I was down there earlier, and he parked next to your car again, so I told him to move it. He wouldn't. I told him you didn't want him anywhere near your car—that he'd find himself behind bars next time he came anywhere close. Shit, Danno, he didn't even know you were 5-O. Then the dude called you a loud-mouth haole dwarf, and that was it. I had to put the guy in his place, and, well, let's say I defended your honor."

Danny wants to hit Eddie now, too, and he stands up, anger rising. "Are you kidding me? Seriously? Listen, I’m sure you think that whatever crazy is going on in your head is okay, but let me assure you that—"

He's cut off mid-sentence when the front door swings open and Steve walks in, voice calling out, "Hey, Danno," then trails off as his eyes settle on Eddie. Shift to Danny. Holds up a bag. "Uh. Hey. I brought…rolls."

Danny can only sigh. "Eddie's just—"

"Leaving," Eddie finishes as he throws Steve a quick look, then turns to Danny and pulls him into a brief hug. "I'm leaving. Thanks for the beer, Danno."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. You're welcome, and it's Danny, you know. Just Danny," Danny says softly, offering a half-hearted, fairly stilted pat to the guy's back because can anyone spell incredibly awkward?

Steve seems to be unleashing the glare from hell as he watches Eddie slide out the door, then turns to stare at him, arms crossed.

"What? He got—and I—oh, hell. You know what? You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I understand just fine." Steve is smirking, but he looks less than amused. "Apparently, you have a new boyfriend."

“Don’t be an idiot, Steven,” he says, “and park it over here so I can check out your buns.”

"Rolls. They're rolls."

"Yeah," Danny grins. "Those, too."

**

Steve can only admit it—yes, dinner was a success. Who knew? Danny really can cook, and he loved every bite.

"I told you," Danny tells him as he's lying on top of Steve on his small couch, and Steve plants his hand onto Danny's ass, long fingers spreading over a whole butt cheek, happily watching Danny's sudden grin.

Danny has his head down, his right ear resting on Steve's chest, when he asks, "You ready for dessert?''

Which makes Steve grin, too. He's not usually fond of sweet things, but then again: "Dessert—depends on what, exactly, you're offering?"

Danny laughs. "Well, I didn’t cook anything, if that's what you think. There's ice cream in the freezer if you want, but I was thinking maybe you'd be interested in something else. Something more along the lines of exploring that oral-fixation you say I have."

Steve just grins up at him, hands already sliding between them, fingers playing in the direction of his own pants' zipper. This is the kind of dessert he hoped Danny had in mind, yes, and he nudges lips against Danny's head. "Always said a good meal is best topped off by a little something."

Danny points to himself. "By little something, you mean—"

A statement which would normally piss Danny off—Steve making a stupid joke about his stature—but which Steve hopes actually comes across pretty endearing, considering the softened expression on his face that he can't seem to put away.

He again presses lips to Danny's, one hand brushing away a loose strand of Danny's hair that's fallen forward. Their eyes meet before Danny's mouth unfolds into a wolfish grin as he starts to slowly slide down Steve's torso.

Steve exhales a held breath, closing his eyes and holy fuck, Danny's oral fixation is about the most perfect dessert he could ever imagine.

"Yeah, D. You can definitely cook," Steve breathes, because goddamn.


	2. Chapter 2

On Tuesday, there’s a flat box sitting on Danny’s desk when he comes back from lunch, and he stares at it for a long beat because it’s wrapped in paper printed with pineapples and tied with a dark green bow and he has no idea what it is or why it’s there. “What's this?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I want to know,” Kono answers from where she’s now leaning against the door.

Chin grins as he slides in next to her. “She’s been itching to get that box open since it got dropped off.”

“You’re getting presents, Danny.” Kono’s pretty much leering at him, dark eyes full of mirth and unspoken innuendo; Danny is sure she’s going to start in on him any moment about Eddie. They've all been giving him shit about the guy, and he'd admit it's kind of flattering if he weren't starting to think Eddie was crossing the line into a little creepy.

There’s no card—not that he doesn't already know who dropped it off—just a tag that has his name on it, and the words, 'thank you', and he tears open the paper just as Steve walks through the door. “What, you’re having a meeting and didn’t invite me?’’

“Not exactly. Lookit. Danny got a present,” Kono tells him, grinning and pointing, which has Steve frowning.

“Danno, what you got there?”

Chin grabs the box from his hands, and geeze, Danny thinks, it's not like he invited all of them in here, and then Chin’s turning away, box in hand and reading the print on the package out loud for everyone to hear.

“What Danny has are chocolate covered macadamia nuts. The whole ones.” Chin whistles. “The expensive ones.”

“Nuts,” Kono adds with a wink and a smirk, and how is it she can say one little innocent word and make it sound so downright filthy? “What Danny has is a secret admirer.” She grins. "Although maybe not so secret. I told you."

Danny grabs the box from Chin’s hands. Enough already. “Out. Everybody out. There’s no secret admirer, nothing to see here. It’s just a box of nuts, so stop speculating and get out.”

They leave. That is, Chin and Kono leave. Steve still stands there, an odd expression on his face as he’s nodding toward the box. “Let me guess: Eddie, right?

The box of nuts almost burns in his hand and he drops it to his desk. “No, you’re not right. I’m sure they’re just—no. I don’t know who sent them, okay? It doesn't say and it’s not a big deal, anyway. They’re just nuts.”

Steve’s frowning this time with a sliver of disingenuous smile that's giving an honest-to-god cold glint to his eyes. Danny's seen this look before; it's one from the SEAL catalogue listed under the chapter _Glares_.

“Yeah, so I heard, Danny. Nuts. The expensive ones.”

**

It's the end of the week, finally, they've gotten absolutely nowhere with finding out who killed Allison Kapana, the new case that came their way once HPD found she was related to a victim from an earlier case of Five-O's. Now, they're all beat. Chin begs off to do whatever it is he does when he's not with them, and Steve talks Danny into going to dinner with him and Mary. Kono tells them she'll meet them there.

Steve's sister, Mary, is sitting at the bar with her back to the door, twirling a straw in a drink half gone and Steve can see her nodding along in that feeling good already way as she talks to the bartender. He watches her back for a moment, his hand staying Danny from moving forward as he presses his finger to his lips and slowly sneaks up behind her.

She's laughing, openly flirting with the bartender. She hasn't noticed him, so he leans his elbows down on the bar next to her and burps in her ear. Wet and loud.

"Oh, my god, Steve, you're so disgusting," she tells him, pushing at him and wiping at her ear. She gives him a long look then smiles. "So what, just you? What'd you do with that partner of yours, shove him down into one of your pockets?"

Danny taps Mary’s shoulder then, standing on her opposite side and Steve laughs at his expression as Danny gives her a sharp nudge and says, “Really? In his pocket?"

"Danny, hey! I didn't see you there in Steve's shadow." Her fingers brush against Danny’s shirtfront. "Look at you with no tie. I’m still not used to that."

Danny’s laughing, grinning as he brushes a hand along his shirt and Steve feels a swell of heat roll through his groin as he watches Danny's fingers trail over his chest. Sometimes just looking at Danny does that to him.

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes I'm not either, but the heat finally got to me and I just gave up and left it behind." Still, though, because he’s Danny, Steve thinks and can't help but grin as Danny just has to assure her, with raised finger no less, "but that's it. That is absolutely where I draw the line. I'm still kinda in mourning over the whole situation, if you really want to know."

Mary laughs. "Trust me, I really don’t. Besides, you forget I can see through all your and Steve's bullshit. I've seen you out there. Surfing. And the tie's still gone. So, admit it. You’re going all _kama'aina_ now, aren’t you, Danny?”

"Well, if that means born and bred and proud to be from the Garden State then yeah, that would be all me." 

Steve grins, watching Danny and feeling that twinge inside his chest grow, and he does his best to tamp down feelings he doesn't yet want to clarify, even though he knows none of it would be too hard to define should he let himself truly dwell. Not like he's harboring any regrets for starting this whatever it is with Danny, they just haven't moved past the rush of lust stage—and who's to say that's a bad place to stall?

"Ooh, I'll have one of those," Kono says, suddenly joining them and pointing at Mary's bright green martini as she slides gracefully onto a barstool. "And yeah. Danny let the ties go quite a while ago," she adds, "but you know, I have to say I think I do kinda miss 'em."

"See?" Danny shoves Steve. "I told you."

"Chin said since he's not coming, to have a round on him," Kono says, dropping three twenties on the bar in exchange for picking up her martini.

“Uh, this was sent over to you."

Steve turns to the bartender at the same time Danny does, both of them watching as Mary's eyes light up as she looks at the drink now set on the bar. She's smiling and grinning. "Wait—for me? From who?"

The bartender shakes his head. "No, hey. Sorry. For him." 

For Danny. Steve stares at the drink—looks like a Mai Tai, and looks like more rum than anything—then stares at Danny. Then at the bartender when Danny asks, "What, really? Me? Who—"

The guy nods toward the other side of the bar. "Oh, the guy over—well, he was right there."

"A guy?" Mary's laughing then claps her hands. "Ooh, Danny." She turns to Steve and grins up at him, nudging him in the arm. "That's, like, so kinda sexy getting a drink from a man."

Kono's laughing as well. "That's not all he's been getting from a man."

Danny pokes her in the side. "Excuse me? Don't even—"

"I meant all those sweet things, Danny. You know, the cupcakes and stuff you've been getting from that neighbor of yours. That guy—"

"Eddie," Steve clarifies and can't help pretty much spitting out the name.

There's a finger snap, and the bartender is half pointing. "Eddie. That was the guy's name. The guy who sent the drink over." He's smiling like he's just remembered the best thing ever. "Not sure why he didn't stick around, but yeah, guy's name was Eddie. Said he wanted to give you something sweet."

Danny groans, and Steve's fingers are cramping against the bottle in his hand. He feels Mary brush against his elbow. 

"Might wanna unclench there, brother. Your inner five-year-old is showing."

"Fuck," Steve breathes, turning back to the bar and slamming his empty down. The bartender gives him another beer along with some sort of weird look, or maybe Steve's imagining that. Shit, he doesn't even know except it just irritates the shit out of him that Eddie was here.

Danny's talking to Kono who's clearly trying hard not to give him too hard a time about Eddie being there, either, but also clearly can't just let it go. "Getting kind of stalker-ish, Danny, don’t ya think?" she's saying with a kind of twinkle in her eye, but there's a degree of truthfulness to it all and so, yeah, Steve can't help but agree.

"What's with you? You look like you could just about shoot lasers from your eyes," Mary hisses at him and Steve knows it, he does, just…that guy. And Danny. "It's just a drink, Steve, not a grenade."

"I'm fine," he states, and feels his shoulder muscles tighten when she just starts laughing at him.

"Yeah, okay. You're fine. Whatever you say," she says with a condescending pat to his shoulder. "Loosen up your jaw at least, before you grind your teeth down to nubs, for shit's sake. God, you never did like to share your things." She leaves her hand for a long moment then squeezes his neck. "Guy's not even here now."

"Yeah," he thinks with no small measure of relief. "Yeah."

**

Hours later, Danny's already got his eyes closed, nose tucked against Steve's shoulder as they lie sprawled next to one another in Steve's bed, and sleepily murmurs, "Let it go, already. It really is nothing."

Steve stares up into the shadows of the bedroom ceiling and tries not to sigh. They're both tired and it's been a long night having drinks, lots of drinks, and dinner with Mary and Kono, with Eddie's unexpected presence a more than slight annoyance as far as Steve is concerned, even if the evening did finish with a lot of fun. "It’s more than nothing."

It is, too. Like a sharp pebble stuck in his shoe, small enough to be irritating, and sharp enough to really poke now and again. He can feel Danny looking at him now, peering at him even through the dark of the room.

"Steve, stop. It isn't."

"Danny. It is. He's…definitely into you."

"No. Well, okay, maybe a little, but you know I’m not into him, and besides, is it really killing you that much that I get a little extra attention? God knows you get it enough—all the time, actually. Everywhere we go."

"Oh, my god," Steve says, rising up on an elbow and pointedly staring at Danny's softly lit features. "You're enjoying this."

"What? No, no. Okay, maybe what I am enjoying is you being all—you—about this. But really, Eddie, this—it's just nothing. Seriously, nothing." Danny's got a hand on him, pressing. "Now come on and settle down. I'm tired. Think I'm getting sick, too.

"Sick? What?"

"Calm down. Just a cold, I think. Relax, I'll try not to breathe your way, although I'm pretty sure you've already been intimately exposed."

Steve shifts down again, doesn't say anything for a long while, eyes still focused on the dark of the ceiling even after he hears Danny's breathing deepen as he falls to sleep.

He squints into the shadows, as Eddie's slimy grin comes to mind, then reaches out a hand to rub lightly against Danny's arm. "I don't know, Danno," he whispers into the dark. "I think it's definitely something."

**


	3. Chapter 3

Steve gets back behind the wheel of the car and shoves a cup under Danny's nose. "Here."

Danny takes the offered coffee and stares into its steaming face. He so needs this to try and wake up as he slept horribly. Couldn't breathe at all. "You put two creams in there?"

"Two creams."

"Sugar? You put a packet of sugar in there, right? Not that pink or blue crap, but real—"

"Sugar. Yes, despite all the pained looks directed my way by every person in the place, I added sugar to your Kona."

"The real stuff."

Steve sends him a long look, then, "What did I just say?"

"Wow, who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?"

There's a pulsing vein showing on Steve's forehead that looks like it could possibly do damage. "Well, Detective, let's see. Two guesses as to who I just ran into in there."

"Detective," Danny repeats and this is not a good start to the morning. "God, you really are in a shitty mood."

"Two, Danny."

Danny already has a strong suspicion he knows who Steve saw; Eddie lives in his apartment complex. Everyone who lives there frequents this place as it's within walking distance. "My Great Aunt Jemima?"

Now Steve's scowling. "You do not have an Aunt Jemima."

"Uh, Great Aunt, and I most certainly do. On my mother's mother's side."

"Aunt Jemima."

"It means dove in Hebrew and yes. She's a lovely woman, was a great cook in her day, too, I'll have you know."

"Cook. Let me guess, her specialty was pancakes."

Danny looks at Steve dead on. "Blueberry." He'd laugh if it weren't so true, and then does let loose a soft chuckle of sorts. "I'm serious, though. I know it's funny, but it's true."

Steve's just staring out the window, clearly not amused. "Well, no. It's not your blueberry pancake making Great Aunt Jemima."

There's a long pause then, and Danny's trying to think of something that will not make Steve even more pissed. He gets Eddie's becoming a nuisance. "Not like he knew we were going to be there, Steven."

The look on Steve's face clearly shows he doesn't believe him. "What, you're going to defend that creep now?"

"Def—okay, look. I get you don't like Eddie. Hell, I don't like Eddie, but honestly Steve, what's he done, exactly?"

Steve's staring at him and it makes Danny squirm a bit. "Really, Danny."

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Look—I mean, really, when you think about it, all he's done is…be nice."

"Nice? What's the deal, Danny? You really like this guy? Like all the attention he's giving you? Is that why you're so easy about him?'

"What—no! Just—I think he's just a lonely, harmless—"

Steve cuts in with a loud snort then, which under other circumstances would have Danny rolling with laughter. Doesn't seem so funny at the moment.

"Danny. He followed you. To the restaurant. Had nuts delivered to your office. Bought you a drink and then disappeared. Is always just showing up places."

Danny never mentioned running into Eddie at the grocery store that time, figures now's not a good time to mention that little tidbit. "I can handle a guy like Eddie, Steve. I have my eyes open, so just…let it go, okay? Everything's fine."

"No, I'm not letting it go. I think—" Steve sighs then, and Danny gives him a few minutes. "Just—he's really weird, Danny, and he's getting obsessed with you, I think. I really don’t trust him."

"Yeah, well," Danny says, agreeing, "I don't disagree, but it's fine, Steve. Really, everything's fine. I'm fine—well, I will be once I can shake this cold and breathe through my nose again. I'm so stuffed up."

"Yeah, about that."

"About what?"

Steve laughs. "You. Snoring."

Danny waves a hand, and scoffs, "Snore. You and I both know I do not snore." Glances at Steve's raised eyebrows and not so hidden smirk. "Shut up. I do not. I don't."

**

The afternoon ends with a heart racing car chase, followed by a grueling quarter mile full speed ahead foot race and flying leap take down of two suspects. It's only a miracle that no one gets shot by the end of the day although if Steve blurts out 'relax, this is fun' one more time, Danny's not sure he'll be able to keep from pulling the trigger.

Steve's been in a weird mood most of the afternoon, a little more touchy-feely than ever, which isn't an awful thing by an stretch, Danny thinks, but probably has more to do with Eddie's obsession with him than it does Steve just suddenly deciding to become a little more hands-on. Danny's headache's been building since that morning so he doesn't even bother trying to figure out what Steve's problem is or why whatever extra-handsy weirdness he has going on has settled in for the duration.

Danny fumbles with the keys to his apartment door after assuring Steve that really, he's totally fine, just has a sinus headache to go along with his new cold and just wants to take a long indulgent shower and go to bed early. Alone. 

Steve and his hang-dog look finally drive off in his truck, and Danny just gets the key in the lock of his door when someone's hand reaches out to grasp his shoulder, which just about gives him a coronary on the spot.

"Jesus, Eddie. What the fuck?" because his heart is beating a mile a minute and it's been a stressful enough day without having this guy sneak up on him.

"Sorry, Dan. Danno. Didn't mean to scare you."

Bad enough Steve's totally determined to call him Danno more often than not—and okay, okay, after all this time Danny's settled into it, he'll admit to even liking it now—but that's from Steve. Eddie's _still_ calling him that and he's about to tell him to shut the fuck up with the Danno thing when the look Eddie has on his face makes him kind of deflate. The guy may be a little too into him, and okay, he has been trying to buy his affections with pastries like Steve said, and yes, he's just flat-out weird, but it's not like Eddie's done anything but try and be nice to him.

"It's okay, just—what's up, Eddie?" Can this day just end on a quiet note, for shit's sake? He feels like so much crap. His pulse is pounding on the inside of his entire skull and his stuffed up nose feels ten times larger than life.

"Thought maybe…you might wanna, I dunno, get that beer we talked about. Maybe go for a burger, too, or something?" Eddie's staring so intently at him that Danny's finding it weirdly tense to maintain eye contact. Or maybe he's just too tired and feeling too ill for this right now.

"Ah, you know, Ed, that’s …I, uh, I gotta…headache and a cold and, so, y' know…I don't think this is the right time…"

There's a long pause, and then Eddie's nodding. "Oh. Yeah. Okay, that's fine. Y' know. Like we said before—maybe a little end of week relief?"

Danny nods along, not even listening as he finally gets the door open. There’s a spike driving straight between his eyes, he hasn't been able to take a breath out of his nose in two days and whatever the hell Eddie's rambling about is not even going into an ear, so he mumbles out whatever will get Eddie to back off and go away. "Yeah, sure." His blood is pounding brutally behind his eyes and he can't help but feel relieved when he's able to shut the door behind him.

With fingers pressed to temples, and trying to tamp down the rising nausea, he inhales deeply through his mouth, exhales just as slowly. Hopes like hell there's something strong in the medicine cabinet because he wasn't lying when he told Steve he had the mother of all headaches. Compounded with the worst head cold ever, he feels like complete shit.

It takes him a few long beats to realize he can still see Eddie's figure through the not quite shuttered blinds drawn over the small window by the front door, the guy obviously just standing there…doing what?

Yeah, okay. That's definitely a little creepy.

**

The sun's barely a thought in the sky, hours, at least, until it rises, and Danny lets his one open eye shut again as it slowly registers that it's dark—middle of the night dark— and he doesn't have to get up for a while yet. He's not even sure he's not actually dreaming he's awake.

He feels heavy and sleepy, may even still be asleep because nighttime Thera-flu followed by a Nyquil chaser can take him down the same way a heavy-duty tranq-dart can take down a charging rhino. Doesn't have a clue what woke him or if he is even truly awake, and he's already slipping back into a heavy dream state where he's being gently pushed over onto his back.

The mattress lurches beneath him followed by heaviness and warmth between his legs--oh-fuck-yeah-Steve. Sees dream-Steve's short dark hair shift lower and oh, god, this kind of dream. He loves this kind of dream.

His eyes roll beneath closed lids when dream-Steve's hands trace up his inner thighs from knees to groin, and then wet heat and sweet suction engulf his dick. The moan that pulls from him vibrates throughout his chest and head.

"Steee—" he breathes, voice low and raspy with sickness and sleep, and one hand is already twisting tightly into the sheets as the other makes its way to wrap a tight grip onto the slats of the headboard. Delicious dream, incredible dream…

"Shh," he hears dream-Steve murmur into his ear while a hand squeezes his ass. Long fingers are cupping around the flesh there, and Danny lets his head rock back against the pillow as his body arches up to meet that amazing heat. Doesn't want to wake up. Doesn't ever want to wake up.

There's no sound save his not so quiet panting breaths and the slick slurping of dream-Steve's mouth and tongue.

It doesn't take long, oh no. Within minutes he's nearing his limit, his senses all intertwined into a single thread of sensation that’s located somewhere deep in the pit of his groin. He lets go a drawn out, "ohh, fuuuck," when the heat builds to overload and he's then drowning under waves of intense pleasure.

There's nuzzling up along his belly, over his ribs and a wet suction around one nipple before hot breath steals across his neck and dream-Steve breathes into his ear. "Sleep, Danno."

Which he already is and then lips are pressed against his forehead and the last thing he remembers is his own softly uttered, "love you, too" before he's sinking down into a deep overly medicated sleep.

**

In the morning, Danny slowly wakes, his mind feeling like it's dragging through sludge. God, he hates cold medicine. While it lets him sleep the sleep of the dead, it also takes him a few hours to fully shake off the leaden medicated feeling. He still feels drugged to the gills—way past merely groggy.

Pulls on a pair of sweats and stumbles out to his kitchen with only the thought of coffee on his mind. His cold seems better, but he's still not breathing all too great through his nose. Headache's mostly gone, though, and that's a plus.

He turns on the faucet, coffee pot in hand, and glances down to find a pink bakery box with a giant bear claw pastry waiting for him on his kitchen counter. Just stares at it, his brain not registering at all. It takes him a long minute to let what he's looking at sink in—and then, wait—what?

Where in hell did this come from? He knows it wasn't there last night, and he picks it up, sees a happy face scrawled in marker on the side. Eddie.

What the fuck? Never mind Eddie somehow got this in here—put this on his kitchen counter inside his supposedly secure home—Danny knows he's done. This has got to stop.

He throws on a pair of shoes, grabs the box and heads up to Eddie's place, banging on the door that quickly opens to reveal a grinning Eddie. It's like the guy was just standing there, waiting for him.

"Danno! Come on in!"

Shoves the box at Eddie and then steps back. "Here, take this. What the fuck, Eddie? Seriously, I mean—what the fuck? You're lucky I don't charge you with breaking and entering." His headache is swiftly making a comeback.

Eddie's frowning at him. "I didn't break in, your door was open."

"Open? Oh, no-no-no—"

"Unlocked. It was unlocked, I swear, and honestly, I just thought you left it open for—"

Danny steps closer. "No, I didn't. Even if—even if it was unlocked, you do not just— No, okay? You know what? You—need to just stop. Stop everything. Just stop. I tell you I don’t want pastry, so you bring me pastry. I tell you to stop doing that, and you bring me more. Honest to shit, Ed, this won't happen again, you got it? Stay outta my way." Turns and heads back to his place before he decks the guy. Jesus, this is getting fucking nuts.

Eddie's still standing at his door, Danny can sense him watching as he heads back down the stairs, but he refuses to acknowledge Eddie's words that trail after him.

"Sorry, but, it _was_ unlocked. I just—I was just trying to be nice, Danno. I just wanted to do something nice for you!"

Jesus. Guy's become annoying as shit.

When he gets to his bedroom, his head is pounding like all fuck, and then it hits him. He stares at his bed for a long—a really long moment—but oh, no. Fuck-fuck-fuck, no. That was not real. That was just a dream—a really wet dream with Steve at its center. 

Steve.

It was Steve.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks for reading, and the comments, and I will reply once the fic is posted.  
> I haven't yet because I don't want to give anything away early inadvertently--but please know, they're very much appreciated.

Suki Anderson is one of the people Danny's known the longest in Hawaii, and given her job expertise, he figures she's the perfect person to quietly go to with his request.

He meets up with her before he heads to work, thankful no one at the precinct gives him a second glance, and offers her a smile along with a very large soy chai-tea latte.

She takes the tea and peruses the pad of paper he's handed her with a mock sigh. "You only come see me when you need something, Daniel. Just too busy to make time for old friends, any more."

"You know that's not true," he replies with a smile.

She waves him off. "Yeah, sure. Handsome young man with places to go, people to do. Got no time for old ladies. I know your type. So, you seeing some pretty young thing, finally?"

"No." Pauses… "Well, not exactly."

"What's that 'not exactly' mean exactly? She's not pretty or young?" She's staring right at him. 

"No, just—she's not a—you know what? You're a nosy lady, is what you are. Anyone ever tell you that?"

She's laughing at him, chuckling softly and shaking her head. "Daniel, you're too easy. Besides, everyone knows you're already married."

"What?"

Suki's peering at him over her reading glasses. "Married. Commander McGood-Looking? Anyway, how far back you want me to check on this guy?"

"Enough with the married jokes--Just see if there's anything at all: I'm not sure what I'm looking for, or if there's even anything to look at. I'm kind of blind trawling on this one, but I need to know if there's anything weird."

"Weird. Weird how? We talking about running naked down Main Street weird, or taking animals apart as a pastime weird?"

"I don’t know. Just…anything that seems odd. Or any sort of record. Parking tickets—anything, I wanna know."

She's staring at the name he wrote on the paper. "Who is this person to get so much of your attention?"

"Hopefully, no one. I just need to know if you find anything."

She's got a sharp wit and beautiful large eyes, and if he were twenty years older and not already in the process of falling head over heels with his partner—Commander McGood-Looking—he could easily see himself asking her out to coffee.

"Okay. I'll see what I can dig up. And Daniel, sweetie?" She's got a dazzling smile. "You come by later and I'll give you something for that cold you got. Secret home remedy, make you feel so much better."

"Oh, no. Make me not feel anything at all, as I recall. Not my feet or my hands or my lips…"

She laughs at his expression of horror because she sprung that on him once before, when he was still a newbie in town. Pure brain-eating moonshine, was what that was, and he sure doesn't need to choke that down again in this lifetime.

"Ah, Daniel. You know if I were twenty years younger and single…"

He laughs as he walks out the door.

**

Steve swings by Danny's place, but immediately sees the Camaro is missing from its usual parking spot. Pulls the truck to the curb and checks his phone and sure enough, there's a voicemail plus an auto-corrected text from Danny. 

_get errors to do this am c u late at orifice no need 2 swim by_ which he figures means Danny's doing some errands and will meet him at the office later.

"Captain?"

Oh, hell no.

"Captain, it is you. I thought this was your obviously-overcompensating-for-something truck."

Asshole. Steve ignores the comment. Looks up to see Eddie walking toward him, coffee and one of those little pink bakery boxes in his hand. He's beginning to hate that shade of pink.

'It's Commander." Steve's fingers are twitching, like they want to wrap around the guy's neck.

"Huh?"

"Commander. It's Commander."

"Oh, huh. So sorry." Eddie's purposely dicking with him. "Didn't mean to hit a nerve. _Commander_ " Eddie peers around the parking lot, then leans down toward Steve's window. "So," he says. "Doesn't look like Danno waited around for you."

"Danny."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm late, Ed. Is there something you need?"

"Yeah. Well not so much need as—here," Eddie says with a grin then drops the little pink box through the window where it falls into Steve's lap. "Give this to Danno, will you? It's his favorite."

Goddamn it. Steve just stares impassively at him, says nothing as he then hits the gas, grinning into the rearview mirror as he watches Eddie leap back out of the way. Slimy fucker. A second later, he hurls the pink box out the window and watches with a surge of satisfaction as it lands in a sugar and dough explosion all over the asphalt.

He's going to have to do something about that creepy jackass. What, he doesn’t know—but something. This guy is bad news all around. He's met Eddie's type before, and he'll do what he can to keep the guy away from Danny.

Makes the light and turns right at the next intersection with another glance in the rearview. Eddie's still standing there, watching him as he drives away.

Creepy motherfucker.

**

Steve and Danny grill out at Steve's that night, finishing dinner by each grabbing beers and heading to the Adirondack chairs down on Steve's small beach. 

This is the best part of the day, Danny thinks. He so needed this time of just the two of them. No interruptions. 

"So you're going to pick me up on Sunday, right, D? Around noon."

"Yeah, babe. I already told you I would. What, you think I'm going to forget?"

"No, but…you just seem kind of distracted tonight, and I just want to make sure."

Danny’s not about to mention Eddie to Steve. Sure not going to bring up the Eddie and the pastry incident. Definitely not going to bring up the dream—of course it was a dream—and at this point, he'd like to not think on Eddie at all. "I'm not distracted."

"I beg to differ."

Danny grins. "Excuse me? What was that? You're going to beg, you said?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Just remember to pick me up."

Danny points his beer at him. "I'll pick you up, don't you worry about that. You just remember to not have too good a time with those…animals."

"SEALs."

"Animals."

"Old friends."

"Animals.”

Steve sits back in his chair and Danny meets his long, staring look. Steve grins and points his beer bottle back at him. "Danno, you're jealous."

Of course he is. "Of course I’m not. You just need to remember what your priorities are and not act like the total goofball moron you usually become when you go off to these macho weekend things and you become one of those…people."

The expression on Steve's face is too much a knowing grin for comfort, and Danny knows Steve's thinking about what his upcoming weekend trip has in store.

Danny thinks about that for about a half a second, thinks about the other night's dream—it was a dream, goddamnit—for the other half, and just blurts out, "I want you to blow me."

"What?"

"What—what do you mean, what? Am I not speaking English here?"

Lewd. Lecherous. Lascivious. They’re all there on Steve's face now. That, plus no small measure of interest—oh, yeah. This is going to happen.

"You mean later? Or—"

Fuck it. Danny's already shimmying out of his shorts. "No, not later. Now. Here. Here and now."

"Danny, you never want to do it outside."

Danny's eyes angle down to his rising interest. "Well, apparently I've changed my mind."

"Apparently, you have," Steve says, long legs bending to settle into the soft sand beside Danny's chair and reaching out toward him. Thumbs already digging into Danny's inner thighs. "So what do I get?"

"You? What do you get?" Danny closes his eyes. "Me." Squints open one eye. "And one helluva nice memory of me for you to relive every night you're not with me."

"So you are jealous."

He sighs and shakes his head 'no'. "Yes, Steven. Yes, I so very much am."

**


	5. Chapter 5

Life is good. 

No, Danny thinks, this morning, life is great. Great. "Great," he says aloud, smiling and damn if he doesn't feel an actual spring in his step.

"What's great?" he hears and turns to find Chin watching him as he leans against the door to the office kitchen.

"Nothing," Danny answers with an attitude and grin borne entirely from early morning sex. "Everything." He hand waves his words, almost spilling coffee from his freshly poured mug. "Just--feels like a good day, that's all. A great day--and it's Friday which, well, means it's Friday."

"Uh-huh. If you say so." Chin says and has that knowing grin that Danny's seen before.

"What?"

"Nothing. Not a thing, just, you have seen the stack of paperwork in your 'IN" box, right?"

Danny frowns. "Wait, what? He didn't."

Chin is grinning which, just… "Oh, brah. He so did."

Steve left early that morning for his SEAL related macho-bonding session in San Diego for the weekend and has, by all evidence from Chin's shit-eating grin and Danny's overflowing IN box, left what has to be his entire last two weeks' worth of unfinished hard copy paperwork. 

"Figures," he says and knows no matter how much he protests to himself, he'll do it all anyway because, "probably why he was extra attentive last night."

"What?" Chin asks then visibly shudders when it's clear Danny's words fully register. He holds up a hand that has Danny grinning again as he watches Chin leave with a shake of his head and a softly uttered, "Really, really do not want to know."

**

Several hours and two and a half mugs of Kona liberally laced with cream and sugar--never mind they all keep telling him he needs to drink it black, he likes what he likes--he leans back in his desk chair, stretching arms up toward the ceiling and rounding his back, which now has a definite pull to one side that wasn't there prior. He's finished a good part of the paperwork--his--and sighs as he pulls up a new folder to start on the pile that is Steve's. The temptation to name the folder ‘chaos’ is overwhelming, incredible beachside blow job or not.

He's a quarter or so through Steve's paperwork when Chin pokes his head in the door. "Hey. I'm running out to drop some files off at HPD, then I'm picking Kono up from her dentist appointment and we'll probably grab something for lunch after that. My bike should be ready by then, which all means I'm not exactly sure what time I'll be back."

Danny looks up from his computer and blinks. His eyes feel dry and gritty. "Oh, okay. Think I'm good by my lonesome to hold down the fort from all this ongoing excitement.”

"You do that, then take off early. It’s a slow day and what the hell—what the boss doesn’t know…” Chin says with a grin and a nod as he leaves.

Danny wonders how Steve's doing. Figures it’s fifty-fifty whether or not he'll hear from Steve whenever they get a break, which pretty much guarantees Danny’s not holding his breath.

Steve texted when he’d arrived at the airport, but once those guys get going, he's pretty sure he won't hear from Steve again until it's time for him to pick him up at the airport on Sunday and pour him into the car. Danny rubs hands over weary eyes and rolls his head to loosen up tight neck muscles, thankful he's not involved. It'll be good to leave early, maybe take a short run then head to Steve's to stay for the weekend.

An hour later his office phone rings and he picks it up while keying down through his email, half-marveling at how quiet the day has been, and how nice it's been that he hasn't seen hide nor hair of Eddie for a while. All he has on his mind is their current case and lunch--definitely not pizza again. Probably will end up at Kamekona's for a plate lunch—there’s just something addictive about that garlic shrimp--he's not fooling himself.

"Detective Williams, Five-O."

"You lied to me."

Takes him a second. "What?" The number showing on the phone isn't familiar.

"You. You're a liar. You know that? Liar."

"I don't--" The voice is vaguely familiar, something about the tone but it's a weird connection. Almost like the guy's talking through a muffler of some sort. "I'm sorry, ah, who is this, please?"

"You said we'd go out together."

Okay, what? Thinks he knows the voice, thinks he-- "Wait, Ed-Eddie? Is that—is that you?'

"I believed you."

Danny's email dings and he clicks it open. They now have good reason to think one of the victim's coworkers lied to them about not being with Allison Kanapa on the day she disappeared. Just got picture confirmation of the two of them walking toward her car. He's going to have to check that out. "Listen, Eddie. I'm not sure why you seem so upset, but I have to—"

Eddie's laughing. "Upset. No, _Danno._ I'm not upset. Not at all!"

The phone goes dead and it takes him a full beat before he's also slamming down the receiver. "Freak," he says, grabbing his keys and heading out the door to go talk to one Kenny Makoki about his connection to their vic, Allison Kanapa.

**

"Dan?"

Danny's halfway into the driver's seat of the Camaro, mentally planning the route to Makoki's in his head when the voice—that voice—pierces his brain. This just isn't happening. "Eddie?" What the hell?

Eddie's grinning ear to ear. It makes Danny want to punch him, and after that phone call of a few minutes ago, he definitely doesn't want to be around the man.

"Danno. Yeah, hey. Listen, I, uh, I thought maybe you and I could talk. Maybe go for that burger."

"Burger." Unbelievable. He takes a deep breath and somehow finds himself grateful that Steve isn't around. This has gone way past just a little playtime riling Steve up about Eddie. 

"Eddie. You gotta stop bugging me, man. I mean, I don't—" He can't do this. It's fucked that he even has to do this. Why is this guy even here? "Listen, I can't do this right now. I got work to get to, and you can't be here. I'm working—I gotta go."

"Danny. I'm sorry about that phone call; I was kinda upset is all, like you said. But I'm over that now. It's just, I want to take you to dinner—it's Friday and you said we would go out, but you keep putting me off and—"

"You want—Ed. Eddie, listen. I'm flattered, I guess. I don't quite get it, really, but I'm flattered that you're, whatever this is—I just—I'm not interested, Eddie. I'm not. This isn't going to happen. It's just not going to happen. Get it through your head."

Eddie's just flat out staring at him, his face taking on a blank expression as Danny closes the car door. He flinches when Eddie's palm suddenly slams down hard on the windshield as he shouts out, "You promised me, Danno!"

Danny can't drive away fast enough. Jesus, what in the fuck was that? He's going to have to do something big time about Eddie, but first…he needs to clear his head. Think about the job at hand. Clear up just what sort of connection this Kenny Makoki had with the victim and why he lied to them about being with her. That's his first priority—he needs to erase the past few minutes from his brain and focus back on the case.

Which reminds him, and he hits speed dial for Steve then half-grins because okay, yeah. Out of town. Total reflex. Calls Chin instead, and clenches the phone in frustration when he reaches Chin's voicemail.

"Hey Chin, I'm on the way to check out more on a lead I got earlier. Seems not all her coworkers were up front about their whereabouts. I'll call if I find out anything…then probably grab something to eat after that and head out. Hope fixing your bike doesn't eat your entire paycheck. Gimme a call Sunday about what time you want to come over. I pick Steve up at noon—game's after that, but come over any time, especially if you're bringing beer. See ya then, man." 

Tosses his cell where it slides off the passenger seat down into the space between seat and door. Hopes Makoki is home as he pulls the Camaro in front of the house, or what looks more like a shack. Double-checks the address of the guy, but yeah. This is the place.

Rap music blasts from the house across the street. "Jesus. Unbelievable," Danny grumbles as he gets out of the car. The noise is completely overwhelming. Deafening. He can actually feel it—the bass beat is vibrating within his chest.

There’s a beat up, half-rusted out Corolla adorned with buckled paint and gray primer parked in the alley next to the house, a dented white pick-up truck with mismatched cab parked behind that, but no visible movement. Everything looks quiet, undisturbed, no reason to think anyone’s even home, and he wonders if this'll be a bust. Just means he can get something to eat sooner than later, though, which is good as his stomach's now growling, then…there. Movement. The ratty looking blinds just shifted, so evidently someone’s inside.

He makes his way to the front door that slowly eases open as he starts to knock. It’s dark inside, murky with the blinds drawn, and he can’t see much peering into the small space allowed by the door.

“Makoki?” he calls, giving the door a slightly weightier push and it yawns open a little wider. He takes a half step onto the threshold. "Hey, Kenny Makoki, you here?" 

It's silent, and giving him an uneasy feeling. Please let their not be another dead body to find. Grabs for his phone to call back up—no phone—sees movement again, and, somewhat wary now, pulls his gun, shifts his one leg just slightly more inside to nudge open the door as he calls out, “Mr. Makoki? You here? Police—Five-O!”

With the rap music still blaring behind him, he can't tell if anyone called back to him or not. He’s totally on alert and starts to turn back to his car because yes, calling in for back up may not be a bad idea.

In that split second of him turning, his breath is sharply wrenched from his lungs in a whoosh when a tremendous force hits him from behind. Something slams into the back of his head at the same time he's shoved forward between his shoulder blades and he stumbles hard, hands splayed and falling blindly into the house. Fuck, no—the gun’s flying and a door is slamming and something else smashes into the side of his head as he’s already dropping to his knees.

**

There's a pounding inside Danny's head that's so consuming, so intense, he can't even begin to open his eyes. His body is vibrating, there's some kind of movement underneath the back of his head, his back, but it doesn't make sense. He's dizzy. Feels so sick …

" _Danno, Danno? God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—Danno? Can you hear me?"_

A voice is in his ear and he tries to rub a hand against his head but he can't. Tries to say something in response to the vaguely familiar words, but can't seem to do that either and only manages a soft moan as everything amplifies that much more until a curtain drops and he's out. 

** 

Steve glances at his watch while he mentally counts the rings and, shit, he only has these few minutes and, of course, Danny's not answering his phone. He just wants to check in—okay, yes, wants to hear Danny's voice, which is ridiculous as god knows he hears that voice constantly, think he'd enjoy this break from it—but, he misses him. Even in the middle of all the wild and crazy of this weekend—there's a very good reason he doesn't get together with this crowd but once a year—he misses Danny. 

Still no answer and he hangs up, not bothering to leave a voicemail. He's only gone until Sunday, anyway. Then he'll be home. 

"What the hell, McGarrett! You in or you out?" 

"In, you fuckers. Don't start without me, I'm comin'." 

**

He's dreaming that he's moving. Rolling. There's no way in hell he let Steve drag him out on a boat again. Takes him a few minutes before he realizes he's actually awake—and whoa, yes, it really is his head that's rolling. Swimming. Swirling. Pounding… 

"Danno? Danno, can you hear me?" 

Steve? 

"Fuck, man, you loco or—" 

"Shut up!" 

" _Haole_. I'm gonna kill you when I get—" 

"I said shut up! I gotta think. Think." 

"Yeah, you gotta think what I'm gonna do to you when—" 

"Shut the fuck up, you dumb fuck!" 

"Wha—" Danny's trying to figure out what's happening. Not Steve, he knows it's not Steve, but…what…. Doesn't understand anything. There are voices and noises, but they're coming from everywhere around him, and nothing makes sense. He just feels sick. His head is killing him. Can't open his eyes. Can't do anything—god, his stomach's rolling. 

Nothing is right. He doesn't know what or where. Drifting, he can sense that much, which isn't so bad if it takes the pain away, and he shuts out everything but the pounding of his heartbeat reverberating inside his skull. Count the beats, focus on breathing, shut down the pain. Lets it carry him away until there's nothing for a while…. 

Until it wakes him again, at least he thinks he's awake. He's not even sure, just knows his head is back to near explosive levels. It's hot, he feels hot. His pulse, he can still hear—no, feel, he can feel his heartbeat booming inside his head. In his ears. Behind his eyes. 

"Steve…" he says, thinks he says. Calls out but he doesn't know if Steve's here. Doesn't even know where here is—and tries to open his eyes but they're watering horribly, they feel swollen and is that someone moaning somewhere? It's all confusing and he shifts, but his stomach is rolling, churning—oh, god, he's sure he's going to— 

"Oh fuck, your boyfriend just blew." 

"Danno. God. Danno." 

"Listen. Hey, listen—I don't know who you are or who he is or what you want— _haole_ , you listenin' to me? Lemme go. I got no beef with you. You never see me again. Swear." 

There's a low thud, but Danny can't figure it, his stomach is still churning, his head is spinning and he's sick--coughing, choking on vomit. Lots of other noises, too, but nothing discernible, instead it's just adding to the overall confusion inside his head. Slams and bangs and voices. There's talking, yelling, but it makes no sense. He can't focus on the thread of words echoing around his skull. 

Hands touch him, hands on his back now, tracing over him. He's lying face down, something softer than where he was, but this isn't right. Not right. 

"You're okay. Let's get that shirt off. You're okay, Danno. You're gonna be just fine. I'll help you, clean you up. Just gotta think for a minute, then it'll all be fine. You'll see, Danno. It'll all be fine. I'll make everything fine." 

He can hear someone talking over the ringing in his ears, just can't register what's being said. What they want from him. Hands pull at his shirt, he can barely move to help, then just lies there while a wet cloth trails over his skin. He's shaking, trembling. Hurts. What's wrong with him? Voices again… 

"Why you doing this? What do you want? You want money? I can get whatever—drugs? You want drugs, man? I getcha the best, you know?" 

"I told you to shut up." 

"I'm bleeding! You cut me good, I need help. You can't—" 

"Shut up! Just shut up!" 

There's a whole lot of noise then, more than before and someone's moaning but he can't keep his eyes open—everything's too bright, and he can't focus on anything happening around him. He can't—his head hurts, his neck hurts, his body hurts. Hands return then, he can feel them again over his skin, over his back. Fingers circling, rubbing. Someone's talking but the words don't register. His head's killing him. 

"DannyDannyDanno. My Danno. It's going to be okay. I got it. I got it figured now. It's going to be just fine." 

What? Hands pet at him, stroking over him, but he can hardly care; he feels so sick. 

"You just rest. It'll be perfect, you'll see. Perfect and…and oh, god, I knew your skin would be soft. I knew you'd feel just like this. So soft, Danno. So perfect. This is all going to work out. You're fine. We're perfect. Perfect together." 

"Wha—" he barely manages out on a breath. Doesn’t understand. This makes no sense. There's a weight on his thighs, someone's sitting over him, on him, petting him. He knows it's not Steve, but what…god, licking him? It feels like someone's licking his back and he pushes up to roll over because, no, he doesn’t want any of this when-- 

"Just wanted to be nice to you, Danny. You just need to let me be nice to you. And see? I just wanted you to be mine and now…now you're here. You are. You're all mine and I've wanted this—you—so much, I can't even begin…oh, god, Danno. I'm sorry I was so angry with you, so, so sorry—but I have you now. Here. all for me!" 

Fuck! Pain: hot, sharp, brutal—spearing agony drives down into the center of his back and he can't breathe. Can't inhale, can't exhale, can't do anything and it hurts, oh god—ohgod-ohgod-ohgod—what is it—make it stop, make it stop—it hurts, it hurts so fucking bad and he can't turn, can't move, can't buck them off, can't breathe and it's not stopping, it's not stopping and he can't do anything but scream. 


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, yes. Yes, Steve is acting like a 13-year old girl, tells himself this even as he's thumbing 'you miss me, I know you do' on the tiny keyboard, and he knows it. Worse, Danny's going to know it, too, once he reads the text message. Messages.

Then again, so what if he's sent a couple of texts? He misses him. Danno. Even in the midst of this insane go-go-go reunion with a few of his former SEAL team members and Annapolis classmates, he still finds himself wanting to hang out with Danny and laugh over some of the ongoing crazy that's happening.

Chuckles over the thought of the earful he's sure to receive when Danny picks him up at the airport on Sunday. 

He can't wait.

**

"Hey."

Danny moans. Stirs. He can feel himself surfacing, the world just outside—doesn't want to go there. His back—killing him. Sharp, intense, sickening—and his head hurts. Horribly. Everything hurts. He can't think, can't do anything but drown in pain, and he doesn't even quite know how to do that.

"Hey. Wake up." Something jars wherever he is. Does it again and it hurts as he's jostled.

"No," he moans and half opens one eye. It's too much, too bright, too much. He doesn't want to know. Tired, he slides back into the cool darkness that slips over and around him and blessedly pulls him away.

**

Steve wonders if sending one more text is one more too many. Danny'll never let him live this down, he thinks, then smiles as he texts just one line before putting his phone away. 

_what are you wearing?_

Danny is going to give him so much shit.

**

Danny's hot. Too hot.

"Shit. Finally. You 'wake, _haole_?"

Opens one eye and blinks. Not as bright now, but everything's blurry. Fuzzy. What?

"Yeah, you may not be awake after all." Whatever Danny's lying on is suddenly jarred, and the voice comes again. "You hearin' me now, fucker?"

He blinks again. Takes stock but it's like swimming through mud. There's an overwhelming intense, sickening pain drilling dead center into his back. As bad as everything else feels—his head, his neck, his shoulders, not even all that added up can match the viciousness of his back. Like he's been impaled. What the hell?

"Concussion. Yeah, you got a concussion, for sure. Don't look all there, neither. You gettin' me at all?"

Takes him a while to realize he's staring at someone. A man. A man who's talking to him, sounds like he's panting. Like the man's just come from a run.

Danny swallows on a dry throat, which makes him feel nauseous. "Yeah," he whispers in response then shivers. No, trembles—he's trembling. Shaking.

Closes his eyes but he's jarred again, and it makes him feel like he's going to vomit. Another sharp jolt and he looks to the guy across from him. Slowly realizes the guy keeps kicking whatever it is he's lying on. God, his mind can't seem to swim through the thick sludge it's immersed in, and he blinks his eye and tries again. "What?"

The man's still staring at him, but he looks…odd. Pale. Pinched. Angry. "You gotta wake up an' help me, man."

"What?" Half waves a hand around which is way more effort than it should be, but he's so confused.

"What, _haole_ —you still don't remember nothin'? Shit, man. I told you all this three times, already." The guy just continues to watch him, then nods toward him. "Gimme that water over here, an' try and stay awake this time."

"What?"

"Fuck, _Danno_. Water. Put your fucking hand down there, an' roll that bottle over."

"Know you?"

The guy half grunts, half wheezes. Coughs, "Yeah, you do now, shithead. Water. Roll it here."

What's going on? Danny shifts some, which bites his back and leaves him gasping for a few long, agonizing beats, then feels around the floor with a hand until it bumps into a bottle of water. Pushes it to roll toward the guy, who grabs it, opens it and drains it down.

That's when Danny notices the blood. It's kind of dark in here, wherever here is, shadowy, so he can't see all too well—at least he hopes it's because it's dark and that it's not because of whatever happened to his head, and he realizes then that he's only seeing out of one eye.

"What happened?" he asks, squinting and nodding toward the guy's shirt, which is covered in dark shadows. Stains, he thinks. Blood, and he probably should be more concerned about that but his head just feels too thick and numb to even try to sort things out right now.

"Okay. Listen up, asshole, 'cause I'm tired of telling you. Your boy stuck me with my knife. My own fuckin' knife! You two come to my place, he nails you couple times in the head and you drop like a stone—but oh, lemme tell you how fucking sorry he is 'bout that. You know how I know that? 'cause he been sayin' it over an' over. That some _lolo_ boyfriend you got, _haole_."

"Boyfriend?" Not Steve. He knows it's not Steve. Stares at the guy. "Who're you?"

"Don't much matter, 'cept why you show up at my place anyway. You a cop?"

"Cop." Yeah, he thinks that sounds… "Yeah…think." He lets his eye rove around, but even that hurts. Hurts to breathe, like agony to inhale. "My back—"

"Fucker took a chunk out of you."

"What?"

"Your _lolo_ boyfriend. He nailed you. Hard. Sunk down into you like he liked it…like he was one of them vampires, you know? You chewed up good back there, man. That fucker got a bite into you like he owned you."

What the hell?

**


	7. Chapter 7

Nothing. Not a call, not a text. Weird, because usually Danny's usually pretty good at calling back (even if he is pretty terrible at texting, goofy thumbs and all)—then again, maybe he's got a lot going on—all that paperwork, Steve thinks with a small smile.

He doesn't want to admit how much it disappoints him that Danny hasn't bothered to text him back, though. No.

**

An explosion wakes him and his eye opens abruptly. What was that?

It's dark. Blinks again, and realizes someone's there with him. They're breathing loud, like it's a struggle. Danny can sense them but he's not seeing very well. He's hurting—his entire body aches horribly, and he feels incredibly groggy on top of that. It's almost like he's dreaming that he's awake. Is he dreaming?

There's moaning somewhere. "Steve?" That doesn’t sound right, though. He knows Steve's not with him, but doesn't quite know _how_ he knows that.

Someone's hand trails over his face, fingers pressing to his lips. "Shh…take some more water, Danno. Good boy. That's better, right? Listen, there's water's right here. Just gotta reach down for it if you want it. You hear me? You need to drink it, it'll make you feel better."

His head aches, and it's hard to keep his eyes fully open—well, the one open, the other is almost swollen shut, but even worse is the agonizing fire in his back. It's hot and wretched under the skin, like a knife stabbing and twisting into the center of him, making him gasp. Every time it twists, it gives a sickeningly painful pull.

"Steve?" he tries again.

The hand is on the back of his neck now, holding him down. He can feel the weight there and it suddenly pinches his skin, hard. Words trickle into his ear, half registering in his mind. "Kenny Makoki, Danny. He hit you. He dragged you here—chained you here."

Chained, what?

"Keeping you here, but you got him. You did good, Danny. You killed him."

"What?" He doesn't understand.

The hand on his neck is stroking him, fingers moving to thread through his hair, pushing his face down. "Yeah, you did good, Detective Williams. He hit you, remember? You walked into his house and Kenny Makoki hit you. Can you remember that? Tell me who hit you."

"Ken—" he murmurs then lips seem to brush along his face. There's breathing next to his ear. Whispered words float all around him, saying the same thing over and over.

"Yes, Makoki. He hit you. You woke up here, you remember, Danno? Waking up here?"

Nods. Doesn’t know how he got here. "Where?"

" Kenny hit you. Brought you here, and you fought with him. He hit you. Brought you here. You fought him and he bit you…Danny? You hear me? Here, have some more water…remember, Kenny. Kenny bit you."

"Hurts," he breathes, then drinks some more water. He still does hurt so badly, but everything is starting to feel even fuzzier. He's numb, like he can't focus at all. Like he's floating. Like he's drugged.

"I know you hurt. It'll be better soon. Tell me again, who beat you? Who did this—who bit you?"

It takes him a while, he's sure he's drifting until water trickles into his mouth again and he swallows, begins to fall asleep... Someone pushes him a bit, which hurts everything.

"Who, Danny. Who was it that did this?"

Knows—he knows this. "Ken—Kenny. Hit me. My back."

"Yeah, he hit you. Chained you. Bit you. But you killed him. You got his knife and then your gun, and you killed him. You remember? Danny? Hey—you awake?"

"Killed him." He nods again, a tiny little movement that he keeps repeating even as he falls into the dark tunnel that sucks him down.

**

Steve sighs. The worst part of it is that he's drunk. No, the worst part is that he's drunk and not with Danny--drunk and horny and not with Danny. That—that's the worst part of it all.

He sort of sidewinds himself to his room, still chuckling over the antics of his buddies down the hall who are still going at it; he can hear them from here. Lord, he's getting too old for this kind of shit.

Stumbles into his room once he finally gets the door open then falls onto the bed. He opens his pants and then slides to his knees in the sand because Danny told him to blow him. Right now. Right here. Outside, and Danny never wants to do it outside.

"Shit, Danno. Wha' 'm I gonna do with you, Danno…Danno…" he mumbles, one hand wrapped in the sheets and the other on his dick and it's just a few seconds before he's out like a light.

**

"Cop. Danno."

"'S early, Steve," he mumbles.

"Hey, wake up, mu' fucker. I nee—"

There's coughing then, followed by thick hacking and what is that? "Steve, okay?" Cracks one eye open and god, everything's dark. "Steve?"

The coughing turns to choking and Danny shifts a bit, pushing down sudden nausea and trying to blink away the fog that surrounds him and none of this is making sense. "What?"

"Water."

Takes him a long moment to register someone's said something. He's still not fully awake but his hand's brushing against something and he wraps fingers around it and brings it up to eye level—a half empty bottle of water. He rolls it toward the voice. Toward the—okay, there's a shadow of a guy in the corner.

"God, what?"

Danny's so confused. And hot. It's roasting in here, wherever here is. He lifts onto an arm, not able to fully prop himself up and not able to suppress the moan when he tries anyway and pain drives like a dagger into his back. "Oh, fuuuck—"

The bleeding man starts laughing. Or what sounds like laughing, more coughing—Danny shifts up a bit higher, squints toward the guy. 

"Hey. You, you—okay?" Stupid question, the guy sounds terrible, but Danny's too tired and his head hurts and his back is on fire. His brain is too cloudy to figure anything out. He feels drugged.

The guy's groaning, and even as murky as it is in here, the pool of black the guy's lying in is clear enough. Blood. A lot of blood.

"No, not okay—it's bad."

Christ. Danny rolls a little more onto his side, his head and back screaming in unison. He's trying to get up, but it's hard.

"Hang on—" Grits his teeth and tries again, but there's more than pain holding him back. Something's wrong and what the hell? He's lying on his stomach still, and realizes his right ankle has a thin chain tightly wrapped and padlocked around it, anchoring him to something underneath. "I can't—"

"Fuck—" The guy releases what sounds like half a lung in a deep, wretched cough followed by a guttural groan that Danny can almost feel himself.

"I can't get to you. I'm…sorry."

"Hurts. Fuck—it hurts." 

Danny yanks hard on his leg. The chain around it is tight, metal bites deeply into his skin when he pulls which sends fire into his back. Rests his head down for a minute because it's about to split in two and what in the fuck is going on?

He reaches a hand under the low cot he's lying on, fumbles around until, ah. Water. Half full, he drains half of it in a few swallows. Tastes bitter, and he feels it start to rise back up immediately.

The guy's coughing and moaning quiets down some, then, "You. Cop. Danno. That your real name?"

Danny tries not to vomit. He's feeling dizzy and sick. Shifts a bit, bracing against the agonizing pull it sends into his back, and peers at the guy. "Danny. My daughter calls me Danno."

"You got a kid? Didn't think you hom—" The guy stops suddenly with a loud grunt. Then, "Gonna fuckin' kill your boyfriend, Danny."

"What?" Danny's having a hard time following, his head aches and trying to stay on track is becoming difficult. He's hot and tired and sick. Spacey. 

"You, your fuckin' boy. Swear, I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kill both of you. You fuckin' hear me _Danno_? I'm going to rip. You. Apart."

Guy kicks at the cot he's lying on, and it jars Danny's entire body. Pain spears him from head to toe and he tries to twist away and then there's nothing.

**

"Danny," Steve breathes as he feels Danny's hand wraps around his dick, his mouth following with the most incredible suction—licking and sucking and god.

"Danny-Danny-Danny," he murmurs, rolling over because he wants him. Wants Danny to take him right here, right now. Can feel Danny's chest against his back, the hair tickling and sweeping as Danny's biting the back of his neck, hands grabbing his ass and fingers drifting deeply into him…

"Danny," he breathes again and comes all over his own hand, the hotel sheets…then snores heavily into the dark room a half a second later as his body splays out onto the mess and he sinks deeply into a now dreamless, alcohol-infused sleep.

**

It's a slow awakening. Danny's feeling bruised and achy and it takes him long minutes to get his brain working. He blinks against the grit of his eyes, but everything is still dark and shadowy. Fuck, it's so hot. He hurts. Bad. Moans softly, and stares out into the shadows. What's happened to him?

"Steve?" which sounds wrong. He's sure Steve isn't here, wherever here is, and in the next thought has an overwhelming surge of deja-vu. Then it's gone, and he's just confused. Like he's sleep-walking through a nightmare.

Rubs a hand over his eyes, one is swollen shut, and traces fingers over what feels like thin trails of dried blood. He turns his head and then sees him. Remembers. Bloody guy. "Hey."

There's nothing but silence. Why is it so hot? "Hey," he tries again, but the guy…wait. Kenny? Kenny bit him. That flash of reality slams into his head. He has a memory—more like a vision—of Kenny climbing over him and sinking teeth into the flesh of his back, tearing at his skin with his teeth.

"Aw, fuck," he pants, feeling like he's going to, but tries desperately not to, vomit. Breathes deeply through his mouth for a few minutes while sweat runs rivulets down his face. Realizes he can now see a bit better than before.

The guy's staring at him. Kenny. He's just a few feet away, sitting on the floor in a rag doll sprawl to the left, his head about the same level as Danny's. And he's just staring. Staring and not blinking. At all.

Oh, fuck. Danny peers best he can—it's lighter in the place now, but not light enough—and fuck it, fuck it, there's blood everywhere. A huge pool of it, the guy's pretty much covered in it, sitting in it and, shit, oh shit—Danny can smell it. Feels like he can taste it and braces himself up when he suddenly vomits water everywhere, which sets off his head into an almost unbearable pounding which makes him almost pass out.

Collapses back down on his belly and god. He's dead. The guy's dead. Looks around and what the hell is happening? What did happen? How'd he get here?

Some vague memory is pushing at him but he can't get his thoughts together. Especially not with a dead man staring at him.

**

His head is going to explode, Steve is sure of it. Groans and pushes up and jesus, just how much did he drink last night? Remembers them all doing shot after shot…

Fumbles in the covers for his ringing phone and blurts out, "Danno?" before he even looks at the screen, but no. It's just Steel-Eye sounding way too chipper for a guy who ought to be half dead from too much late-night imbibing. 

"Aw, Smooth Dog. What, pining for your man already?"

Yes, Steve thinks, but laughs into the phone. "Gimme five and I'll meet you down at breakfast. And don't suck down all the coffee, asshole."

One more night of this and then he's flying home to Danny. If these guys don't kill him first, that is.

**


	8. Chapter 8

He moved. Danny's sure of it. The dead guy—Kenny. He moved. Shifted. Slid. Maybe just an inch, maybe less than that, but shitshitshit, he did, he moved. Wishes the guy's eyes were closed because it is unnerving as hell to have him staring at him. Creepier when there's just barely enough light in this place to make them out; he looks like someone who should be on Max's table. 

Danny can't look at him anymore, so lets his own eyes—eye—close, but it doesn't do much good. He can't stay this way. Can't settle, can't rest, keeps having to open his eyes to check on the dead guy. Who was shot. Gut shot, it looks like, but, honestly, Danny really doesn't want to get close enough to check. There's so much blood. It's everywhere. Making him sick. Sicker; he's already feeling fucking nauseous from his own hurt body.

"Stop staring at me." This is nuts—he is nuts for yelling at a dead guy. "Great," he says. "First I'm talking to a dead guy, and now I'm talking to myself. Out loud, even."

Picks up the bottle of water and takes a few sips, it's hard not to suck it all down. It feels good and wet, never mind that's he's suspicious that Kenny's drugged it with something. It makes him feel strange every time he drinks, and there's definitely a bitter taste to it, but he doesn't care. Whatever's in it, it's making him not hurt so much. Not care so much that he's trapped side by side—in a seemingly tiny little place and he's not about to start traveling down that road—with a dead man. A body. A corpse. Fuck. A rotting corpse if it gets much hotter in this place, and it's pretty damn hot now. Sweat's running down his own back, running into the cuts there—the bite, for shit's sake, the guy fucking _bit_ him—and that burns like hell.

"Bit me," he says, not even sure where the thought came from. "Kenny bit me, and I shot him."

Turns his face to the dead guy. "I killed him. I shot you. " Kenny. Kenny, who's still staring at him with his cold, flat, dead eyes. Staring at him. Staring at him with his mouth pulled into some weird dead-man grin. And laughing.

**

Danny's phone still rolls right over to voicemail, which is just all kinds of wrong. 

"Chin?"

"Hey, Steve. How's it going over there?"

"Good. Crazy. Listen, have you heard from Danny?"

"No. Well, yesterday. Why, what's up?"

"Huh. I haven't heard from him, either," Steve says, and he knows how that sounds. Like he's some pining boyfriend or something. Which he's not, he's just—

"Well, Steve—I mean… You really haven't been gone all that long. I know you two are…close…but do you really need to speak to each other every hour on the—"

"No," he says, interrupting. "It's not like that—and it's not just me wanting to hear from him. I mean, I do want to hear from him, yes, it's just…" Okay. yes. _Now_ he sounds like a pining boyfriend—whining and pining. "I just thought he'd answer my texts by now."

Chin's laughing, Steve can hear him. "Steve, I'm sure he's fine. Probably still slogging through all that paperwork you left him. Let me tell you how very thrilled he was to see that stack you left."

Steve's laughing now, too. "I know. I wish I could've seen the look on his face." He relaxes a bit. "Okay. If you see him, have him give me a call, okay? I'll be without a phone for a while, but I'll be checking it later."

"Will do—and, Steve? I'm sure he's missing you, too."

**

Danny's eye opens; he's lying on his stomach in a pool of his own sweat on a mildewed mattress and, god, what is that? Urine? Groans, his pants are damp. That's great. He's hurt, dirty, bloody, still not sure where the hell he is, and apparently has pissed himself, for shit's sake.

Can't breathe. The place is so dark it's hard to make out much of anything. It's sweltering, godawful hot in here and please, god, someone turn on the air. Tries to shift and oh, yeah. Chained.

"So hot," he mumbles and it is. Hot. On fire hot. His body is burning from the outside in and the inside out. It hurts to move, everything aches—everything little piece of him—but he does what he can to wrap a hand around the chain to get free, about taking off his ankle in the process. Rips his hand up pretty good, too.

Collapses back down, breathing hot air through his mouth as best he can, which just makes him laugh. Never mind his concussion, never mind his back is in agony, never mind he's being held prisoner--he's still got to suffer a head cold, too? 

Wishes Steve was here with him. He's not, though, he's on Maui. Or—wait. No, that's Grace. Gracie's on another island, biking down a volcano. Not here, right? Not here with him, and oh, god. Thank god. Not here. He felt panicked for a second with a sudden thought that she might be trapped here with him…but that's not right, either. He knows she's not here. Wishes Steve was, though.

Closes his eyes again, and feels like he's floating. Feels his thoughts are all over, disjointed. Pieces of things flit in and out of his head. He's tired. Fever, probably.

He groans as the pain drive through his back. It's radiating in waves now, down into his legs, up his spine. Tries to breathe through it. Peels his one good eye open and stares again into the murky place. There's a dead man staring back at him.

"I'm gonna fuck you up."

"What?" he says softly, but then remembers. His head is spinning and he's hearing things. Hearing Kenny. It's all in his head, that's all it is, because he's sick. But he knows who is talking to him. "You—you're dead."

"You and your boyfriend—I'm gonna fuck you both up good."

His head is throbbing enough he feels nauseous. "Steve?"

The dead guy is grinning at him. Staring at him, even with his eyes looking so vacant, and Danny can hear him. "You.Your boyfriend. I'm going to kill both of you."

"You're not real." Except, he looks real. The dead guy. Kenny. He's sitting across from Danny, propped up against what might be stacked boxes, his body at a weird angle, limbs rigid and tight. Stiff. His dead eyes are wide open and staring. Fixed. Looking right at Danny, and Danny can hear him. Hear the dead guy talking to him and he doesn't want to look at him, all dead and covered in dark blood.

"Kill you. I'm going to kill the both of you."

"Shut up, Kenny," he says. Demands. "Just shut up." Knows this isn't real. Can't be real. His mind is playing tricks on him. Doesn't want to think he's trapped in this place, this small, dark place, with a dead man. Doesn't want to think about any of it anymore. Tries to swing his legs around—he keeps forgetting that one leg tightly wrapped in chain. Can't get loose. Can't turn over. Can barely move but a few inches. Tries to kick out but the chain stops him short, pinching into his skin and he collapses with a sharp breath.

Feels so much like hell. Everything aches, hurts. Fever. He's sick and feverish and it's leaving him melting in the heat, in the dark, with a dead man by his side. Talking to him.

"Shut up," he repeats, closing his own eyes and blocking the dead guy from view as he just murmurs the same thing over and over. "Shut up, shut up. Shut up."

 **

No call. No text. Nothing from Danny.

Looks up flight times as he's racing out the door.

**

Danny drinks the water and feels himself floating. Definitely drugged. Doesn't feel too bad, though. Not at all.

**

Steve calls Chin the minute he throws his duffel into the cab at the Honolulu airport. "Nothing, Chin. Not a word from Danny."

"Haven't heard from him, either, Steve. You gonna come back early, or—"

"I’m already here."

"Here?"

"Home. Do me a favor and run a trace on Danny's phone, okay? Then meet me at his place in a half hour. I gotta cab home, am going to dump my stuff and head over there."

"Yeah. I'll be there; I'll have Kono try to find something on his phone. And Steve? I'm sure everything's fine."

"Yeah." He can't get to his truck fast enough. Throws his stuff inside the house the minute the cab drops him off, disappointment rising when he realizes Danny hasn't been sleeping at his place. Half hoped he'd walk in and find Danny sprawled out in the middle of a classic Williams mess.

Grabs his keys and heads to his truck that's parked off the driveway.

"Sonofabitch!" There are at least a dozen eggs broken, dripped, crusted and completely sun-baked all over his truck, eating their way through his paint. 

**

By the time Steve gets to Danny's place to meet up with Chin, he's livid. Two guesses as to who it is damaged his truck, and he only needs one. It's unnerving that the guy hunted down where he lives. Wonders how long he's been spying so closely on them. On Danny.

"Steve."

Chin and Kono are heading toward him and Steve can see the questions forming in their eyes even before they get near. "Danny's place is empty, Steve. No signs of anything unusual. His car's here, too."

"What?"

"Yeah," Chin says, nodding toward the small lot. "Parked over there. What the hell happened to your truck?"

"Wow, Steve." Kono eyeing his truck. It is a mess. "You piss off some teenagers or something?"

"Yeah, or something. Pretty sure Eddie has something to do with this."

"Eddie?"

"Eddie the pastry stalker?"

"Yeah," Steve says, and turns to Chin. "You get a hit off Danny's phone?"

"Tracked to here, too," Kono adds. "Last call he made was the one to Chin on Friday. Pinged the cell tower by the office, but that's the last time it was used. We didn't want to break into the car, figured you had keys."

"Yeah." Steve nods, and throws the keys to Chin. "Open it up."

Kono's watching Chin. "So no one's heard from Danny at all? Not since Friday?"

"Looks like." Steve watches Chin unlock the passenger side door, and Danny's phone clatters to the pavement. "Rachel's got Grace out of town still, not due back until this Thursday evening, Danny told me. He's looking forward to having her for that weekend." Steve can't even begin to imagine what's going on. Everything was easy and quiet on Friday when he left. Maybe it's nothing…maybe not.

"I want to check out his place."

**

Danny's shivering. Cold. Which is weird because when he thinks about it, he feels really hot. Hot. And sick. His mouth is so dry; so dry. It's baking in here. And small. Tight. Dark. 

Not going to think about that. How confining the space around him seems. Still can't figure out where he is but oh, god, he remembers…Kenny Makoki is still staring his way. Dead eyes looking right at him, and he's making a noise. Kenny is. Dead Kenny.

Gas, Danny thinks, closing his eye. Dead bodies do that, he knows this. They fill up with gas and then release it. That's all it is. Like eating beans, only… and he starts laughing. Giggling. Being this hot in here, and it is truly getting steamy hot, Kenny's body's going to just get all full of beans—

No. He's not going there. Not going to think about what might happen if he's trapped in this place with a body full of…

Oh, no. No. No. Twists down toward his ankle, never mind the agony that is his back. Grabs the chain and pulls, making his already sliced hand even worse. Rolls off the cot with a grunt when he hits the floor, he can't help it and he can't move. His entire body is screaming out loud. Breathes deeply through his mouth, and it hurts. He hurts so much. 

He can do this, though, because he doesn't want to be here when Kenny bloats so full that—shit, shit. The chain is padlocked at the other end, tightly wrapped and looped through an eye-bolt that's lodged into cement. He's not getting this off without bolt-cutters.

Kenny did this. Kenny Makoki, he knows this. Kenny hit him at the house, brought him here. Chained him. Then he stabbed Kenny, got his gun somehow and then shot him. Killed him.

He looks over at him now. Kenny's skin is taut, stretched tight and it's pulling his mouth wide. Makes him look like he's grinning.

"Stop laughing, you fucker," Danny hisses at him, shoving the cot more out of the way and wanting to kill the guy all over again. 

**


	9. Chapter 9

Nothing. Not a sign that anything untoward happened at Danny's apartment. No reason at all to think that Danny could be in any sort of trouble, except, Steve just has this feeling. He just knows, like a sixth sense—a Danny sense.

It makes no sense, though. Danny's apartment is untouched, looking as intact and together as it ever does given it's Danny, and his car is in the parking lot, which means what? Steve's about ready to pull his hair out. He doesn't even begin to try and tamp down the worry that's written all over his face.

"What the hell, Chin?"

Chin frowns. "I don’t know, Steve. I mean, I just don't get it. His place looks fine. His car is here."

'"I know." There's a knot forming in his gut, and he knows something is just so, so wrong. "So where is _he_?"

**

The pain in his back wakes him, and Danny's never felt anything so god-fucking-awful in his life. He moans low and long as he shifts against the hard floor, trying for any position that doesn't make him hurt, but then ultimately climbs back onto the low cot because it may be dirty, but it's better than nothing.

He's sick—really sick. Not just the cold sick, or concussion sick, but sick-sick. Clammy skin, shivers, shakes. Human bites can be serious, he knows. Bacteria and things—and Kenny sure as shit looks like he's the type to be full of all kinds of germs. Infectious germs. Germy germs. God, he feels lightheaded. Punchy.

"You're gonna die here."

What? Kenny's slumped over a little more now, but still staring at him with his sightless, dead eyes. He's bloated so badly that his stomach distends hugely. Worse, he's making more noises. Gassy noises.

He's whispering, too. Kenny. Danny knows Kenny isn't really alive or anything, he can't be because he shot him. Stuck him with a knife and then got his gun and shot him dead. Straight shot right into the gut, so Kenny can't _really_ be talking to him. Right? Right, Kenny?

"Just you an' me here, _Danno_ ," he hears again. Knows it's just his brain playing mind-tricks because he’s sick—and okay, a little unnerved about the whole situation, if he’s being honest--and he peers over at him. He's leering, Kenny is—or sneering. It's kind of hard to tell with the way his features are all distorted. Pulled. Swollen and tight and waxy-looking, like his flesh is softening and hardening at the same time. His stomach looks like he’s pregnant. Makes those bright, exotic flowers on his shirt look all stretched out, and Danny finds himself staring at them in fascination. 

And Kenny watches him in return. Danny knows Kenny's watching him, can feel his eyes on him all the time but he's got nowhere to hide.

"Fuck off," he demands, yells at him, his voice filling the small space around him. Kenny's eyes still follow him, though, and Danny can't shut them out. Can't look away, either. Needs to keep an eye on Kenny just in case he moves again. Because Kenny may be dead—gut-shot and how did that feel, there, Kenny?—but he can't be trusted, either. Could sneak up on him, because he keeps moving. Ever so imperceptibly, but still, Danny’s seen it. Him. Seen him move, so Danny has to make sure he watches him. Has to keep watch. Just in case.

When the fly crawls out of Kenny's mouth, Danny chokes.

**

"Corporal McMuffin!"

Steve's eyes close against the sound the second he hears it. Jesus Christ, no. That voice.

"Corporal?" Chin repeats and Kono follows with, " _McMuffin?_ "

Turns to find him. Eddie, who's grinning and bounding down the stairs to meet them as they stand in from of Danny's apartment door. Guy never misses a trick when it comes to Danny, Steve thinks.

Eddie punches Steve lightly in the arm. "Just messin' with you, _Commander_. I know what a great sense of humor you have."

How Danny ever felt sorry for this guy, Steve just can't fathom. "Eddie," he says and Eddie's already turning to Chin and Kono, introducing himself.

"Oh, Danny's team. So nice to finally meet you all, Danny's told me so much about you."

"Danny has. Huh," Chin states, flatly. Steve can sense Chin doesn't believe a word out of Eddie's mouth. Wise choice.

Clearly, Eddie doesn't know how to read social signals, because he continues on despite the degree of loathing Steve knows he's pretty much shooting toward the guy. Chin’s got a completely impassive expression going, as though Eddie’s some inconsequential annoyance that needs to be swatted away. How true.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie says to Chin. "Told me all about you. Like how you love riding your bike everywhere, no helmet." Turns to Kono. "How you were a pro surfer until you busted up your knee." Turns to Steve. "How you love eggs in the morning. Scrambled, fried. Broken, dried." And then he winks.

Steve's going to kill him, grabs the guy's arm and yanks hard. "You wanna tell me something about my truck? Is that part of your game?"

"I don't play games, Chief." Eddie pushes away and sends Steve dagger eyes. "And if you're talking about all that shit I see all over your truck, I suggest you stop parking under trees. Other than that, I don't have a clue what you mean." Then rocks back on his heels, hands in pockets. "So, what? You all lookin' for Danno? What's going on that the entire Five-O team shows up? Something dangerous and exciting?"

"No," Steve answers, wanting the pavement to crack open and swallow the guy whole. 

"Well, he's not here. Danno, I mean." Eddie's staring right at Steve. "We planned on getting together; I wasn't sure which day he preferred, and I didn’t want to just blow Danno…off if he meant tonight, or anything. So I came by to pin him down, nail him, you know. About what day and time. Knocked on his door a couple times today, but he's not there. I just figured he's tied up somewhere, and that I'd see him later."

This is unbelievable. Steve is ready to take the guy apart with his hands, wipe the smirk off his face, and, great, now Chin and Kono are giving _him_ looks to stay quiet. What he'd really like to do is haul off and clothesline the guy. Hard. But he says nothing, just lets Eddie ramble on.

"So you haven't seen him at all?" Kono asks and Steve shoots her a look. Chin is shaking his head at her and Steve hopes Eddie just leaves it all alone.

"No…why? What--is he missing? Is Danno missing? Is he in some kind of trouble?"

Kono looks stricken and Steve gently squeezes her shoulder. "No. No trouble. Everything's good. Fine. We need to get going. You have a good day there. Ed."

"Sure, okay," Eddie calls after them, and Steve can feel the guy’s eyes on his back as they walk away. Hears Eddie's words trail after them. "You too, Chin. Kono. And you have a great day, Commander McLoser."

**

"That asshole is involved, somehow," Steve says, and he's angry. So angry. "He knows something. All that shit he was spouting about Danny. Just fucking with me."

"Steve, I'm sorry," Kono says. "I wasn't thinking, I—"

"It's okay. Tell you what, though. I want you to check him out when we get back. Dig up whatever his story is."

"Think that’s a good idea," Chin says, agreeing. "Not exactly subtle about Danny, is he? What was all that about?"

Steve knows exactly what it's about. "Eddie's crazy—and crazy obsessed with Danny." He knew he should have made sure Danny was more careful. Knew this guy was trouble.

"Still though, Steve. He may be all mouth. We need to check out any lead we can—" Chin stops, snapping his fingers. "Lead. Danny left me a message on Friday—was talking about checking out one of our suspects on the Kapana murder. Said something wasn’t adding up."

Kono frowns. "Yeah, okay, but Danny's car is here, so either he didn't go do that, or did go but came back here after."

"We'll go through his email. See what comes up and where he might have gone. Rebuild his steps." At this point, Steve thinks. He'll take any info he can get.

**

Steve's sitting in front of Danny's computer, going through his email. He knows how capable Danny is, but still. It’s killing him to not know what’s happened.

Pretty much figures Danny most likely took off on Friday to go talk to Kenny Makoki, who showed up in a just discovered second video of the parking lot of the bar where Allison Kanapa was last seen. Makoki, who told HPD he hadn't seen Allison at all the day she went missing, is clearly visible in the video walking with her to her car. He looks just like the mug shot attached to his rather long rap sheet. Charged but not convicted of two cases of rape. Theft, assault. Just an all around great guy.

"Yeah, I just watched it, too." Chin walks in, nodding toward the screen. "Makoki said the last time he'd seen her was several days before she disappeared. So how it is he's walking her to her car the very same evening she vanished?"

"Danny saw this. Had to have gone to check this out. Talk to Makoki, who clearly didn't realize there was a camera covering that lot." Steve looks at Chin, who nods and they both move toward the door together, stopping abruptly when Kono meets them halfway.

"What'd you find?" Steve asks.

"Not much yet. I checked out Danny's office phone's incoming calls. Not a whole lot there, most everyone uses cells anymore, except this." She hands Steve a piece of paper with a number written on it. "It may not be anything, but this was a short call from a pay phone. A pay phone in this building’s lobby."

"What? That’s weird. Okay, it may not turn out to be anything, but at this point, I want to know every thing Danny did, every place he went, every person he spoke—" Steve's phone rings. "Hold on. I gotta get this, it's the Governor." Raises a finger to Chin. "Don't leave without me." Points to Kono. "See what else you can find. I'll try and make this quick."

Heads to his office and shuts the door as he answers, hoping he can make this brief. He just wants to get his hands on Kenny Makoki. "Hello, Governor."

"Commander. I just got a very interesting call. Do you happen to know where Detective Williams is? Is he with you? Because I've just been informed by HPD that he's been reported as a missing person."

"Sir?"

"What I'm saying, Commander, is that apparently, a good Samaritan of this fine city has called Hawaii's finest and reported Detective Williams, your partner, as missing. Now what I need to know is, do you know where your partner is—and if that's a negative, then can you explain to me why it is that this is the first I'm hearing about a missing member of my Special Task Force?"

**

The flies show up. They're buzzing around Danny, landing on him occasionally, but mostly keeping their tastes to Kenny. Doesn't even know where they came from—well, he does, actually. Took that class years ago, and has been around enough decomposing corpses to know the science of it all, the stages of decomposition. Knows how these flies are just one of those stages—part of the process of things that happen to a body once it's dead. Things that happen rapidly if a body's left out in the heat.

He so doesn't need nor want to think on any of that now. Not now. Not with Kenny rotting, body part by body part. Close enough to smell. Close enough to touch. Close enough that Danny swears he can hear him decomposing, he's sure of it. Kenny's bloated and baking and rotting and will soon be a puddle of—stuff—and Danny won't be able to get away.

Please, God, let somebody find him.

**

It isn't hard to figure out who the "Good Samaritan" is, and Steve about blows a vein in his head once he hangs up from the Governor. Waves Chin in when he sees him waiting at the door.

"Everything okay?" Chin asks him, pointing a finger and circling his own face. "You seem to have a—" 

"Face? Please don’t tell me you have a name for it." Presses fingers to his temples. Jesus, where the hell is Danny? "Apparently, our friend, Eddie, decided to report Danny missing. To HPD, who then called the Governor after thinking it odd that someone other than one of us would call in about a missing team member. And oh, yeah, why is it _we_ haven't done the same, or at least involved HPD into the investigation?"

"Oh-my-god."

"Yeah. It was all I could to keep us as the lead investigators. Denning wanted us to hand everything over to HPD and the only reason I’m not down there now is because I told him we don’t have a clue about what’s really happened."

Chin’s nodding. “We don't have anything yet to hand over. Actually, we don't even really know he's missing."

"Pretty much said the same to the Governor, but Chin—"

“Hang on, Steve. I just mean, for all we or anyone else knows, Danny could’ve just gone out on a walk and, I don’t know, gotten lost.”

Unfortunately, Steve thinks, knows—feels—that’s not the case. Knows Chin feels the same. "What the hell was that, though? What’s Eddie playing at, anyway?"

"Exactly what I'd like to know," Kono says as she pokes her head into Steve's office. "I have something you both need to come see."

**

It's getting darker; night's falling. 

The place is full of shadows, anyway, wherever the hell it is, but now it's getting darker outside, which means it will turn black as pitch inside. Soon, and Danny’s having a hard time dealing with that impending reality. The first night, he wasn’t aware. Doesn’t remember. Has no memory of ‘before’ other than sitting at his desk and chuckling over the ridiculous stack of paperwork Steve put in his in box. As a joke.

After that, nothing. Except he does, sort of. Kenny bit him. He got him with his knife—Kenny’s knife—they fought. Kenny bit him. He remembers that—the sheer agony. Is still reminded every time he moves. So, yeah, somehow got his gun and shot Kenny in the—

Wait. Gun. Where is his gun? It should be here--right here. Lord knows he can’t go anywhere, so that gun has to be right here. He's got to be sitting on top of it.  
If he can find it, if he can get his gun, he could shoot the chain. Get free.

The few narrow windows near the ceiling let in very little light as it is--just enough to make out how truly confined the space is around him, and Danny's trying hard to suppress thoughts and feelings of panic that keep threatening to rise up and overwhelm.

Find the gun. Find the gun before it gets too dark to see. Before he ends up another night trapped here. Chained. With a dead body.

**  
"That's—"

"Eddie."

They're all standing around the screen, watching the video from the camera trained on their office parking lot. Kono managed to tap in to it, and even though It's blurry and lined with static, it's not at all hard to make out the silver Camaro or Danny's walk toward it. Steve would recognize that swaggering strut from a mile away.

Danny gets in the car, clearly not noticing a man hurrying toward him from the rear—the guy wasn't there, then suddenly was there in the shot. They then lose sight of Danny behind the windows of the car, but easily make out the man talking to him. Eddie, Steve just knows it's him, even if they can't see his face. The guy suddenly punches the windshield and yells something to Danny.

"Jesus."

"That is one crazy asshole," Kono states. "Is that Eddie, really?"

"Yeah," Steve says, eyes glued to the screen where Kono's paused the video just as the guy's—Eddie's—fist slams onto the windshield. "It's definitely Eddie."

**


	10. Chapter 10

Danny found it, the gun. Even through the shadowy murkiness of dim and fading light, he'd caught sight of a tiny glint of metal under a cardboard box and knew instantly. Felt the faint stirrings of hope for the first time since he woke up to this nightmare—the idea that he could shoot himself free—and he'd all but lunged for the thing, arms outstretched.

Now, that feeling's gone. Hope's gone. Completely shot, and laughs softly at that which just proves how utterly screwed up he is at the moment because none of this is funny—not that he’s really laughing. Teetering the edge of hysteria, more like. He knows it, can feel it, and it’s all he can do to not let himself fall apart.

Can't quite reach it, the gun, and he's been trying for the past who-knows-how-long. Lying on the floor and stretched as far as the chain on his leg will allow, but there's just not enough slack for him to get there and he hasn't found anything that will help him pull it over--and shit, just shit.

How the hell it got way over there and under the box, he can't fathom, either. Guesses it must have slid in the scuffle he had to have had with Kenny, and although he has no memory of any of that, obviously the gun was thrown there somehow. It's almost like it's been purposely placed there just to tease and taunt him as it peeks out from under the box—but he can't get to it. He can't.

"Fuck you, Kenny," he breathes out, gingerly holding his aching head in his hands. His back has morphed into one completely immeasurable source of fiery hell and his head is now doing its best to compete by trying to split itself in two. "Fuck you," he chokes out again on a rising sob, and rolls over to gaze up at the tiny windows to watch the last fading light of the sky.

He wipes away a few tears that somehow leak their way down his cheeks and closes his eye, trying hard to think past the intense agony gripping his back. Another few minutes and he'll be plummeted into total darkness. Won't even be able to see his hand in front of his face; he can barely make out its shape now.

He can't do this anymore, he can't. Needs to not listen to the frantic buzz of the flies nor think about just how many there are now. Needs to not listen to Kenny's voice telling him he's going to die here, alone, and definitely not going to think about what all those other little noises are that come from Kenny's direction. Not going to think about how closely he's stuck next to Kenny, either. How he can reach out and touch decaying flesh and oh, god...

Breathe. Breathe for just a few minutes. Stop thinking. Maybe he can just sleep. He's so tired—tired and hurting and sick. His head, his back, his body, his ankle… Feels awful, like he could be sick again except there's nothing left in his stomach and he so doesn't want to do that again, anyway. 

Doesn't want to think about the size of this place—wherever he is. How enclosed, how hot and smothering, how incredibly dark it's becoming. 

He doesn't want to be here—has had enough. Okay? He just—he wants to be with his Grace. Hug her. Tell her he loves her; tell her she's his monkey and always will be and smell her hair and touch her face and fall into her bright smile.

He wants to get free and go home. And not hurt. And get something to drink; he's so dry now that the last of the water bottles are empty. So water…and…and…he wants his gun but it’s stuck under a box…and that starts him laughing all over again because it's all so fucking insane.

He's giggling now, which is stupid and wrong and yet he can't seem to help it, and then Kenny shifts or moves or who the hell knows what that weird shuffling noise was but Danny hears it again and knows it's him. It's Kenny moving and farting and oh, god, he's laughing now, really laughing, because it's dark—so dark, so completely dark—and Kenny's dead and rotting and shifting and moving and then something touches him—touches his foot and…

He wants Kenny to not be here, and he wants Steve to find him and hold him and tell him this is all a dream. It's just a dream. He's screaming and crying and he can't stop because a dead man is touching him and he wants Steve more than anything.

Wants Steve to come now. Now.now.now.

**

"Danny." Steve’s eyes open abruptly, and he stares up at the ceiling in his bedroom. They've all been at it for hours, trying to find anything. It's two-fifty in the morning and he only came to get a few hours sleep because he knows he needs it to be sharp, but goddamn it all.

He punches the pillow and shifts for the umpteenth time in fifteen minutes. Couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t. It feels like his heart is going to burst wide open and, damn it, they just don’t know enough yet. Sits up straight in bed, head in his hands and rubs fingers over his eyes because no way in hell is he going to be able to sleep with Danny missing.

"Where the hell are you?"

**

"It's a match, Commander. Most definitely."

Steve is driving back to the office, on the phone with Max and relieved, for once, that Max gets right to the point without the usual rambling, scientific hypothesizing. They all know how seriously important this is to everyone. "Okay, but is it—"'

Max's voice comes over the Bluetooth loud and clear. "It's not Detective Williams' blood. No."

"Kenny Makoki's, then," Steve adds, and sees Chin nodding next to him. Makes sense, which means maybe Danny got in a few licks of his own with whatever happened at Makoki’s.

"I cannot confirm that just yet, Commander. Labs will come back soon, though, and before you ask, yes. I did put a rush through. Given Mr. Makoki's DNA was on file from a previous collection done a few years past, we should know soon enough, and if the CSU investigators find anything more, you'll be the first to know. That said, it does seem likely that the blood found at his house and the same blood found in Detective William's car is that of Mr. Makoki as both samples are one and the same."

Which is a relief of sorts, Steve figures as he's registering Max's words. It's not all Danny's blood. "Okay, Max. Let me know as soon as you do—thanks." Cuts off the phone and makes a left at the next light to drive into the building's employee lot. They'd just left Makoki's house, but found nothing inside but a thin and wavering trail of blood leading from inside to outside. It just disappears at the side of the driveway.

"Still doesn't explain where they are," Chin says from the passenger seat—Danny’s seat. "Danny or Makoki."

Which is killing him, Steve thinks. Where the hell is Danny? He spent most of the night worrying, wondering and trying like hell to figure it out. Even tried to somehow mentally connect with Danny and wherever he is, then ended up kicking off the covers to head into the office only to find Kono and Chin arriving mere minutes after him. Turns out no one's able to sleep.

He pulls into his parking spot and cuts off the engine, turns to Chin. "So Makoki's blood was found on the floor of his place as well as on both the driver and passenger seats of Danny's car—and yet no fingerprints are anywhere in the car."

Chin makes no move to get out. They're both just staring ahead, each lost in speculation. "Wiped down."

Steve slides out of the car, Chin following suit. "Let's go through this again. Danny heads over there to talk to Makoki about Allison Kanapa."

"Yeah. Sees the video, knows Makoki lied to HPD about not seeing her the night she disappeared and heads over to talk to him."

Steve points to Chin; they make their way inside the building. "Calls you as he's heading out to let you know he's checking on something. Gets to Makoki’s. Then, what? They fight?"

"Makoki’s hurt and so is Danny—or worse—"

"Alive. I know he's alive."

Chin settles a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "I believe so, too, Steve. So Makoki gets into it with Danny, they both end up bleeding…and then? We find no Danny. No Makoki, but Danny's car turns up in his apartment lot. So if Danny leaves Kenny's and drives back to his place, why is _his_ blood in the backseat—and, why is Makoki's blood in both the driver and passenger seats?"

Steve picks it up. "And where is he—Makoki? If Kenny takes the car and dumps Danny somewhere along the road, why bother driving Danny's car back to Danny's apartment complex and run the risk of being seen? Plus, what's Kenny going to do on foot, take the bus?"

"It's weird—" Chin hits the elevator button. "Which reminds me, don't forget Danny's friend who—"

"God, right. Eddie," Steve replies with a scowl that's becoming an automatic expression upon hearing the man's name. He feels like spitting. "Not like I could. So yeah. Eddie. Shows up just as Danny's headed to Makoki's."

"And there's that phone call from the pay phone in the lobby," Chin add.

Steve nods. "I'm thinking that was Eddie, too. Called and waited for Danny to come out."

"But Danny clearly didn’t know Eddie was waiting for him. You can see Danny's not looking around for anyone when he leaves the building."

"Yeah, but still Eddie stops him. They talk, then Eddie pounds the windshield, clearly ticked about something." Steve frowns. "I just don't trust that guy, and he's been pretty obsessed with Danny. You're right in that it's weird he shows up like that, _and_ on the same day Danny goes missing."

"Think we ought to go pay Eddie another visit," Chin says.

"Think you're right," Steve adds in an about-face back to the elevators. "I'm driving."

**

Ten minutes into the drive, Steve's phone rings and he hits the Bluetooth. "What's up, Kono?"

"Steve. Danny just got a call on his phone and, well, I'm going to conference call us all in. You both need to hear this first hand."

"Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes, ma'am. Who's this?"

"I'm, well, it doesn't matter who I am, just enough that I'm a friend of Danny's. I know he trusts you—all of you—and I wasn't going to say anything except, well, now that it's all over the news that he's missing—"

"Wait. What? All over the news?" First Steve's heard of it and he sends a questioning look to Chin who obviously wasn't aware either.

"Oh, yes. It's everywhere. I just saw a second news report. Sounds like no one knows anything, though. I do hope you find him, it's terrible and I'm so sorry—"

He'll deal with this later, for now, "What can we do for you?"

There's a long sigh. "Listen, this may be nothing, but given Danny's missing, I thought maybe I should give you the information he asked me to gather for him."

"Information?"

"Yeah. I've known Danny for a while now, and, well, he came to me recently and asked a favor. Asked if I would look into a neighbor of his."

"Eddie," Chin says exactly as Steve's thinking the same. How appropriate, too, considering they're on their way to talk to him. 

"Yeah, we know of him. What did you find?"

"He's forty-two, from New York and moved to Hawaii about eight months ago for no real apparent reason. His father's some bigwig on the east coast, made millions from several businesses, the main one being a very successful line of dry cleaning franchises."

"Dry cleaning."

"Yeah, you know, starch or no-starch? Charge women three times what they charge men? Anyway, guy's got his hand in quite a few small business ventures, but from what I found, the son, Eddie, pretty much lives off a trust fund. Doesn't have a real job except to check on the maybes of Dad expanding some business or another either here or on the Big Island. From the size of this son, Eddie's, bank account, he doesn't need the expansion.

"Fairly innocuous, from what I can tell—at least for most of his life. Private schools, private college. Never married. Possibly gay, according to what I could find, but no real lasting relationship of any sort, male or female."

"Nothing odd?"

"Nothing loads of money can't buy. I'm sorry, I'm not sure what Danny was looking for, but this guy, he's just…well, rich and looking for fun, from what I can tell. Harmless enough."

Steve would never have wrapped the word harmless around Eddie. "Does it say anything about him being incredibly persistent? No warrants out for him? No former girlfriend-boyfriends looking to have him arrested or issuing restraining orders?"

"No, Commander. Honestly, not sure why Danny wanted me to look into this guy, but there it is. He's a good-looking guy with a lot of money and no real responsibilities, and there's not much more to him from what I could find."

"Yeah, okay. Huh. Well, thank you." Waits to hear her hang up, then tells Kono to keep digging. "There's got to be something more—and I need you to poke around in Makoki's life, too, Kono." Because there has to be something, some hint to help them find Danny.

"Not what I was expecting to hear." It's not the background any of them had begun to assume on the guy. Eddie definitely seemed like the torture the neighbor's cat kind of terror. At least, Steve thought he was.

"Yeah, I know. I feel the same. I feel like there's got to be something else, Chin. Harmless and boring rich guy doesn't add up."

"Well," Chin says, "you're right about that, because, think about it. If he's that wealthy, living off a trust fund, what the hell is he doing stepping that far down to be living where Danny lives?"

Steve can't help but agree. "There has to be a reason he's living where he's living."

**

Danny cracks one eye open, squinting and blinking as the faint light of morning assaults him. He's lying on his stomach, shivering against the hard floor beneath him and he hurts. Everywhere. He can't take another minute here. He's not going to last.

Calls out, "Steve?" and releases a shallow breath, then lets his eye slip shut and the light fades to black. 

**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never meant for such a break between chapters, so sorry! The past couple weeks were crazy, but I'm back to posting and this will be wrapping up soon (never meant for this to go on so long, either)  
> Many thanks to those of you still hanging in there :)

"Hey, brah. Better watch it, don't wan't get too close to that car."

"Excuse me?"

There's a guy, a big guy wearing an obnoxiously loud _aloha_ shirt, staring at Steve and Chin, arms crossed and a pinched look to his face as he nods toward them—or toward Danny's car, actually.

"Owner's boyfriend like a pitbull 'bout that car. Tried t' chew my ass off a couple weeks ago. Guy's a' asshole. You don’t wanna be messing with that car 's all I'm saying. Fair warning, bruddahs."

He's walking away and Steve hurries after. "Hold up. Can you, uh, what, what does this guy—the owner's boyfriend—what's he look like?"

The guy's flat out staring at him. Steve can't tell if he's annoyed he stopped him or if the guy's sizing him up. "Looks kinda like a' older version of you, brah." Starts laughing. "Why, he your cousin or somethin'?" Takes a step forward with aggression just kind of oozing out of his pores. "You lookin' to get into it with me, too?"

Chin's now there, arms out in some kind of placating fashion. "No. We're 5-O. Just trying to find out who you're referring to about the altercation you had." He nods his head toward Danny's car. "You sure it was this car?"

"Shit, yeah, this car. Five-O, right? Guy who owns this is Five-O." The guy puts his hand out, levels it palm down. "Little guy—'bout this tall." Grins, then looks to Steve and his face turns a bit less hard. "Wait—he the one I heard on the news was missing? Detective something? I saw police all over this car earlier."

Every time he hears the words. Steve's stomach seizes. "Williams. Yeah, he's—missing," he says and tries to relax. Not going to do Danny any good if he can't focus through this. "What do you mean a 'pitbull' about this car?"

"Oh, I park too close or somethin' one time, an' this guy come up, tell me to move my car, that this was Five-O's space. Threatened to arrest me, can you b'lieve that? Listen, I barely got next to it and the guy went all apeshit. So, when I see him park here, I go park over there." Nods toward the back of the parking lot. "Not like we got assigned spaces or nothin', but I'm a peaceful guy. I don’t like confrontation."

Which is hilarious, really, given the man's size and initial demeanor, and then the guy's grinning ear-to-ear as he adds, "Figure I'd give him space if he that lolo over it, y' know?"

"Hold on," Chin begins, "When you say you saw him—you mean recently?"

"Yeah, he was hangin' out by the car. Yesterday—no, wait. Friday, right? Today Sunday? Yeah. Friday. It was late. Dark. He kinda come out of nowhere, you know?"

"You're sure it was Friday?"

"Was he driving?"

The guy shakes his head. "No, man. I mean, I didn't see him drive in, if that's what you askin'. But he was right here when I pulled in, like he just got outta the car. It's always parked here, though, in that spot, so I just started parking in the back to avoid the whole situation." He grins again. "Like I said, I don’t like confrontation."

Eddie. Eddie and Danny's car. The guy walks away and Steve turns, not really having to say it out loud. "Chin—"

"I know. What the hell?"

**

Waking is slow and painful, an agonizing rise to consciousness, and it takes him a long while to fully realize he's even awake. Danny's one eye opens, but it's dark and he doesn't quite understand. Where? Turns to his side, no easy feat with a pounding headache on top of feeling shivery and dizzy.

It's late, or clouds have moved in, and either way it doesn't really matter except it's getting dark, really, really dark. His head is muzzy and thick, his thoughts slow to come, and without realizing, he spends several minutes just staring one-eyed up through the murky shadows before a faint sound grabs his attention. The erratic buzz of flies fills the space around him and he bites back a scream as he slowly turns to look—that was a dream, wasn't it? Please let that have been a dream…

Yanks his leg and the chain clinks and he pulls hard against it which is crazy because he's torn up his leg pretty good already, trying time and again and fuck it, he knows there's nothing to give except more skin around his ankle.

But he wants out. Has to get out, get away. He's not going to look over at him—Kenny—not going to notice that Kenny's moved. Sitting up's a bitch, his entire back is a mass of agony and any shift sets it screaming, but all he can focus on is getting loose.

Slides a bit to roll to his knees, but it doesn't matter how gently he tries to maneuver because even that little movement has his head hammering in sickening tandem with the intense misery that is his back. 

"Breathe, breathe, breathe," he mutters into the cement floor, turning to rest a cheek against the cooler surface because he's sweating like a beast as it's like an oven in here which is insane because he's shivering almost violently—what the hell happened to his shirt--and is about as close to vomiting as he can stand without actually doing it.

Concentrating on pulling in one even breath at a time helps tamp down the pain and nausea, and after enough minutes pass where he thinks he might not actually grind his teeth down to dust, he braces a hand on the floor to sit up and—wet. What?

Opens his eye to find he's a fraction away from Kenny's dead face. Kenny, who's slid and shifted in the dark somehow, and is now almost supine in a dead man sprawl and never mind how that even happened, Danny thinks, because what the hell is the liquid trickle that he didn't even notice he was lying in and is now all over him…

Oh, no, god no, no, no—then he is dry-heaving and vomiting and he can't push away fast enough but it doesn't matter because it's on him now—Kenny's blood and Kenny's, oh god, what the fuck is that…and it's on his hands and his chest and his skin and he's screaming and ripping at his pants…

And Kenny's laughing at him. Danny can hear him, sense him, see him, and starts kicking at him to get away because it's on him, all over him and he can't do this any more. Can't do any of this any more—he can't. He can't.

**

"The car's clean, Commander. Just like Mr. Makoki's apartment. No matter what you think you're looking for, it isn't there. It's been wiped clean."

Hands pressing over his eyelids, Steve leans his head back against the headrest inside his truck and nods. "Yeah, thanks. I know, I just was hoping maybe—"

"We're very thorough, sir. We know how to do our jobs."

Great. Now he's pissing off the CSU guys. "No, I didn't mean any disrespect. I appreciate all the work you do, I just—"

The voice over the Bluetooth is softer now. "I understand, Commander. We're all hoping to find Detective Williams as well, but I can't tell you something is there when it's not."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." He ends the call. This just isn't happening. How can they have resources at their fingertips, state-of-the art anything they want and still not find a damn thing? Not a sign, not one clue. No fingerprints. No blood trail other than what they found outside Makoki's door and in Danny's car, but from there they've got nothing.

He turns to Chin as they exit his truck and head into the office, the expression in Chin's eyes matching the mix of desperation and fury Steve's feeling. Eddie is somehow at the center of this, he's sure.

"Steve, I think we need to—"

"Commander McGarrett?"

Reporters. Several of them and he and Chin don't even make it to the door before a microphone is shoved in his face and voices are coming at him in rapid rounds. 

"Commander McGarrett, can you confirm the disappearance of Detective Daniel Williams from the Five-O team?"

"Is it true, Commander, that even after knowing Detective Williams was missing, it took over twenty four hours for his disappearance to be reported, and even then by someone other than your team?"

"Commander, do you think Detective Williams' disappearance is in any way connected to some of the more outlandish ways and means of the Five-O team?"

He's shoving Chin forward, trying to get them both through the doors and into the elevators in the lobby before they get cut off by the reporters on their heels. Holds up a hand to gain their attention. "We cannot, at this time, comment on an ongoing investigation. Thank you."

There's a mix of voices then, each rushing toward him and he's just reached the elevator that Chin's holding open, the reporters backing off enough as the doors start to close, when a voice calls in after.

"Is it true, Commander, that you and Detective Williams are purportedly involved in more ways than just a platonic, working relationship? Commander?"

The doors close and for a few long beats, he feels like he's been stunned.

"God."

"Steve—"

Chin looks stricken and Steve can just imagine the look on his own face. "Chin, I—just. Don't. Not now. Okay?"

What the fuck is happening?


	12. Chapter 12

Kono's waiting for them as they walk into the offices, but Steve's gut tightens as he looks at her face. "What is it?"

She glances to Chin then back to Steve, and he knows this is not going to be good. 

"Rachel called, Steve. She apparently…well, you really need to call her."

Oh, god. Rachel. Grace. He was hoping to keep this quiet from them; he just didn't think. The past couple of days have been moving so fast—and yet not fast enough as they still haven’t found Danny—and it hadn't dawned on him that, yes, the news. Of course Rachel would see Danny's disappearance on the news. 

Shuts his office door and takes a deep breath as he's dialing her cell. She picks up on the first ring.

"Commander. Steve. What is—please tell me this is a mistake."

What he wouldn't give to be able to say that very thing. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I should've—I didn't contact you earlier because there's so much we don’t know and I—I never thought—"

"You're right about that, Commander. It's really very obvious just how much you didn’t think. Do you have any idea what it's like for my daughter to suddenly see her father's face on the news? To fond out he's missing? How did this happen? What's going on?"

Steve closes his eyes and feels his stomach drop with the desperate tone lacing Rachel's questions. He physically aches with each word he says to her. "I wish I could tell you more, but honestly, we don't know much yet. We are doing everything we can, though, Rachel. Trust me, I will find him."

Silence, then, for too long and he rests his head in his hand. There's an ice pick working its way into is brain.

Rachel's voice is softer now, quieter though still intense. "You ring me the minute you find out anything. I can't—Grace will be anxious. She is already. This is going to be hard on her, so you promise me you'll let me know the second you know anything. Anything!"

"Of course I will, Rachel. You know I will."

"Find him, Steve. You find Danny."

She hangs up and he stares, unseeing, at the phone in his hand. Of course the news would spread quickly; how could he have not thought about Grace? How could he let Danny down this way?

"Steve." Kono peers through his office door. "Sorry, are you—Governor's on line two for you. Says your phone wasn't picking up."

Jesus. Turns and grabs his office phone. "Governor. Sorry, I was just on with—"

He's immediately cut off by the Governor's voice blasting over the phone. The man definitely does not sound pleased. "Do you have any idea how many calls my office is receiving, Commander? Wait, don’t answer that. Answer this, instead. Are you and Detective Williams in some sort of relationship I'm unaware of?"

"Governor?" The pit that's forming in his stomach just dropped. What the hell?

"Don't answer that, either." 

Panic. If someone were to look at his face, Steve is sure they'd see complete and utter panic.

"Let's try this route, Commander. At this time, do you have any leads at all on just where Detective Williams, your partner, might be?"

It's hard trying to wrangle thoughts together when they keep splintering. "We're working on it, Governor."

"I keep hearing that, Commander, but I need answers. I'm being inundated by the press, and _they_ want answers, and I don't want to deal with them. Now, I’m doing my utmost to keep them at bay so you can do your job, but I'm not happy. Not happy at all. I don't like having to answer to reporters. I don't like having to defend my Task Force's tactics. I don't like having to answer to anyone about what it is you and your people are doing and why—you got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now I realize that your team is a close-knit unit— _ohana_ , I think it's called—some of you perhaps even closer than I may have ever realized."

"Sir?"

"And what I need now from you and your remaining team are assurances that you are doing your very utmost to locate your missing partner, and that you are employing every available resource to its utmost in this endeavor."

"We are, sir. Of course."

"And doing so quietly and efficiently. Find my detective, Commander. Find your _partner_. And find him now."

**

Rain is pelting against the place's narrow windows, tiny plinks that tinkle softly against the glass. When Grace was three years old and frightened by a rainstorm, Danny told her not to be scared, that the sound of rain against glass was just the tears of the fairies who lived in the garden. That their tears helped make the flowers grow.

Now, though, Danny doesn't hear the rain. Doesn't notice how much darker it's become around him. Doesn't notice much of anything.

He sits huddled against a few stacked boxes, shivering and wide-eyed and vacant. His head hurts and his back hurts and there are maggots crawling around the open sores circling his ankle, but he doesn’t register any of that. Doesn’t know they're there; he can't feel them. He can't feel anything.

He just stares off into the shadows, not seeing. Not feeling. Not being.

**

"You okay?"

Steve looks up to find Chin slipping into the chair across from his, and he throws the pen he's been repeatedly clicking down onto the papers scattered across his desk. No, he's not okay. He's not anywhere close to okay, and he'd love to just scream that out loud like Danny would. Or better, he wants to punch something—someone—and give release to the pent up anxiety that's building inside his head and heart.

"What in the hell is happening, Chin? Where is he?" 

"Wish I knew, Steve. How's Rachel handling this?"

"Handling, not so much. God, what was I thinking? I don’t know why I thought she and Grace would be kept away—I just didn't think. They heard about it on the news, Chin. On the news. It should have come from me."

Chin shakes his head. "Don't beat yourself up, Steve. You were trying to protect them until we're sure. You were only thinking of them, of Danny. Who knew the press would jump on this so quickly."

Yeah, Steve thinks. And he knows exactly who it is that got them jumping. "I'm going to kill that guy."

"I know. I get it, I do. If there's anything to find on Eddie, we'll find it," Chin says, face full of sincerity. "HPD's been checking some areas, but they're just not finding anything. There's so little to go on; it's as if Danny's just vanished into thin air, and we don’t really even know where to begin."

Which makes Steve's heart clench and he mumbles, "Needle in a haystack."

There's a quick rap on the doorjamb and Steve looks up to find Kono walking in, an older woman following right behind, her petite body almost hidden behind Kono's taller form.

"Steve, this is Suki Anderson. She's a friend of Danny's."

He stands and holds out his hand. "Sure, of course. We spoke earlier."

She smiles and shakes his hand. "Commander. I'm really sorry to bother you here, but I just felt like I should come to you instead of calling."

There's a twinge of something deep in his chest. Hope, he figures. "You have something?"

She glances at all of them. "I think, maybe, and knowing how close you and Danny are—he's talked about you, and I can hear in his tone how much he trusts and respects you—"

Steve chuckles. "Yeah, Danny and his tone."

Suki smiles at him. "I'm acquainted with some of those tones, actually." She laughs lightly for a second, then continues, "I thought this deserved a personal meeting as opposed to me calling you again. I know you're busy trying to find Daniel—I can't even begin to tell you how very worried I am—so I went and dug a little deeper into this Eddie person's history."

"You did find something."

"Yes, I did. Something bothered me about this man, and Danny seemed so sure there would be something. While there was nothing on the surface when I checked initally, with Danny now missing I decided to dive down deep. I mentioned he was possibly gay, and I wasn't just saying that or making an assumption for the hell of it. I was correct in stating he had no lasting relationship that I could find, not with any man or woman. However, there was one I thought was short-lived, initially, but turned out to be much more convoluted than I'd envisioned when I first started digging.

"Eddie dated a man by name of David Walker, who apparently died of suicide five months later."

"Suicide."

Suki nods. "Apparent. At first glance I dismissed this relationship like all of Eddie's others, however when I went back and looked further, I found this David Walker, the longest relationship Eddie seems to have ever had besides his own parents and brother. Thing is, Walker's suicide was in question for quite some time."

"In question. So not a suicide after all?"

"It was never fully clear whether or not it was actually classified as a suspicious death, but after some time a settlement of some sort was received by Walker's parents from Eddie's family, at which time they relented and gave up their quest for civil action."

"They brought a civil lawsuit against Eddie?"

"They did, or were going to. Seems David Walker went missing for almost a week, whereupon he was finally found, barely alive. He died of complications shortly thereafter. He never regained consciousness."

"Cause of death?"

"He supposedly knifed himself to the point of bleeding to death. Doesn't say exactly what that means, whether he slit his wrists or something else. Guess who found him?"

"Jesus." Steve knew the guy was bad news, but this…

"Eddie found him, apparently did what he could to save the man's life by administering CPR, trying to stem the blood flow from the wounds but in the end, he'd already lost too much and was pronounced dead en route to the hospital. Eddie was lauded as a semi-hero, and would have been except Walker's family took exception. I know they filed for a civil lawsuit but then pulled back. From what I gather, Eddie's father paid them a handsome sum to pretty much just go away."

Steve's about beside himself. All he can think of is Eddie claiming to have saved Danny after the attack at the bakery those months back.

"Have you ever heard of Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy, Commander? I think that's what we're dealing with here."

Chin nods. "That and that he's also a complete psycho."

"Jesus." Steve shakes his head, threads of just who Eddie might be crossing time and again to form a knotted personality that made no sense. "Kono, I want you to dig into what else Eddie's father has him doing here. I want to know why a guy who has that much money is living in a place like Danny's. Don’t get me wrong, Danny's apartment's great for him and all, but a guy with a bankroll like Eddie's should be living a lot higher up on the hog, right?"

"Doesn't make sense," Chin says.

Suki holds up a hand. "Hold on, if you don't mind, Kono. I may be able to add a little clarity to that, too." She stares evenly at Steve. "This is why I'm here. Apparently, our friend Eddie eventually became a bit fascinated by a police case that was fairly well covered by the press. Made the headlines of the New York Post for a week straight."

"What case?" Chin asks, then, "Oh my god."

Steve feels lightheaded for a second, as though all the blood just drained from his heart and he whispers on an incredulous breath. "Peterson."

Suki's nodding, her expression serious and grim as she looks to each of them. "Yeah. Took me a while to dig all this up; I think the family pretty much buried everything they could about their son and his _issues_ , but yes. Eddie seems to have developed somewhat of an obsession to the kidnapping—an obsession with Danny in particular, before he even arrived in Hawaii."

Kono's nodding. "We've seen this for a while—creepy stalker."

"Look at this," Suki says and turns her phone around to show the screen.

"Danny."

She half-laughs. "I thought so, too. But no. This is David Walker."

"The dead boyfriend?"

Eddie. Steve wants to take him apart piece by piece. With his hands. "Christ. Are you kidding me?"

"If you look close, you'll see they're really very different. But that initial impression is that both David Walker and Danny Williams look enough alike, they could be related. They even have the same initials."

"So Eddie sought him out—Danny—on purpose."

"Looks that way." Suki says and she's looking directly at him, and Steve meets her gaze with steely determination as he rises to his feet.

"Eddie. He's mine. I'm gonna take him down."

**

Their barely eaten dinner of sandwiches and side salads lay spread out like so much shrapnel across the table, and the four of them, Suki included, have been over and over again what they know, rehashing and combing through details to find anything.

It's late—or early, depending. Sunday night/Monday morning at four-thirty a.m., and Steve's tried to get Kono and Chin to go home to get some rest, yet here they are, all still gathered together. Suki left with hugs and promises to call her as soon as they found out anything, Kono's relaxed and prone on the couch, asleep for a while, but Steve's sure it's just a matter of an hour or so before she'll be back and searching for answers. None of them are truly resting.

Now, he and Chin stand together, each studying the screen showing all they know—and it's still not enough.

Steve rubs his eyes for umpteenth time. Hears Chin's sigh as they wade through all of it again, looking for any needle in this proverbial haystack of possibilities.

Dry cleaning. Dry dock services. A few fast-food franchises as well as office maintenance and cleaning services, all business dealings Eddie's father either already owns, part owns, or is looking to invest into—and not just on one island, but three. O'ahu, Maui and the Big Island.

The man was putting feelers or actual dollar packages into so many propositions, spread over such a wide swath of area, it was difficult to rein in actual possibilities. Even narrowing their scope to just O'ahu, Danny could still be anywhere…

And that's assuming Eddie really was the one responsible for his disappearance.

"Fuck." Steve shifts his neck, the ache there deep and unrelenting and goddamnit, there has to be something they're missing.

"Storage centers."

"What?" Steve turns to Kono, who's been attacking the keyboard of the computer since she woke up, and he asks again, "What?"

Kono and Chin are staring at the screen. "Another business venture. Very small in comparison, but, shit," she says. "How could I have missed this?" She flicks her wrist and a list of business names and addresses appear on the large screen. "It's a pretty inconsequential investment area for him, but Eddie's father apparently owns several long-term storage facilities."

Steve's heart is pounding, loud palpitations echoing into his ears like the rush of the ocean and he knows this is it. He can feel it.

Chin's intent on the screen, scrolling through the listings. "Any here in Honolulu?"

"A few," Kono replies with a nod. "Kind of scattered over several islands, but some right here and I think we—"

Steve's phone rings, he answers while still studying the list of new possibilities. "It's HPD." Answers, then shoots to his feet. "They just got a lead. They think it may be Danny."

**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the extra long wait--really!
> 
> If you're still here, I can't thank you enough.  
> I so appreciate you all reading along, even after such a long time...  
> and if you've given up, I understand that, too!
> 
> I hope to be posting every couple of days until it's finished.

**

Unbelievable. Steve hasn't even gotten all the way out the building's door before they descend. Reporters, and their questions come at him rapid-fire, voices overlaying one another in a rising crescendo. There's no time for this.

"Commander McGarrett? Any developments in the investigation of Detective Williams' disappearance?"

"Can you give us a statement about the situation, Commander? Is there a connection to prior cases?"

"Is it true, Commander, that you and Detective Williams are engaged in a relationship of a personal nature?"

That one stops him in his tracks, Chin and Kono on his heels and he feels Chin's hand squeeze his shoulder. It's not that he's embarrassed about his developing relationship with Danny, it's that he and Danny haven't yet worked out where they're going, much less announce to the world that they're together, especially given their employment together. Pisses him off that these questions are begin thrown.

He blows out a long breath and dials up his best military face. "You all know I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation. Five-O and HPD are working diligently to ensure Detective William's safe return. Thank you."

He can't get to his truck fast enough, can't drive fast enough to where Duke is meeting him with news about Danny and by the time he pulls into the area, he's about choking on the stress. He's not the first to arrive, either, noting a second HPD unit also on location. He's half out of the door and running toward them almost before his truck has really fully skidded to a stop.

Chin and Kono pull in behind him, he senses them at his back but he's got one man in his sights and doesn't slow down.

"Duke!"

The rising sun's a thin line glowing on the horizon, the night's stars barely visible above a fairly cloudy sky, but at least the rain has stopped. Steam rises from the pavement giving the area a misty, unearthly feel. It's eerie in a way that seeps into his bones, and he doesn't want to dwell on the sudden sense of foreboding his brain's trying to thrust forward.

He turns to find Duke approaching him. "Danny?''

"Don't know yet, Steve. I just got here a few minutes ago, too." Duke nods toward an officer talking to two men. "Officer Paleki's talking to the manager now." 

"Why do you think Danny—"

Duke hands him a badge. "Manager called us after he found this."

Jesus. Steve's stomach clenches as he traces a finger over the shield. Danny's shield. "Danny."

"Yeah. Manager found it over there by the dumpster. He'd heard the news about one of Five-o missing so called us."

Steve senses Chin at his side, hears him ask Kono to grab gloves and evidence bags from their car, and Steve feels him take Danny's badge from his hand.

"Like it'd been thrown away," Chin says softly, his hand coming to rest on Steve's shoulder.

Steve's gut turns at the words. He looks over the long rows of buildings and can't help but whisper Danny's name, trying, somehow, to detect a sense of him. 

Chin's hand again gives him a slight nudge and says, "Let's go find out what's going on." It's a good thing because Steve feels like his brain is drifting through a fog. Focus. He's got to focus on finding Danny here. Alive.

Duke steps in beside him, waves a hand toward the buildings. "There are a lot of storage units here, but more than half aren't in use, apparently. They're all locked, though. The manager called the owner before he'd unlock them for us."

"Even after you explained—"

"Said he had to call the owner before he'd let us in any of the units. That's the two of them over there with Officer Paleki."

Two men are speaking with the officer, and they turn when Steve, Chin and Duke reach them.

Fucking, no! Blood rushes in his ears and Steve bolts forward, one hand fisting the guy's shirtfront even before he realizes he's moved. "What the fuck are you doing here!"

"Get off me, you maniac," the owner, no—Eddie—yells, hands breaking the grip Steve has on his shirt and it takes everything Steve has not to take him down.

Steve's glaring first to Chin, then Duke, then back to Eddie. He's going to kill him. Feels like his blood pressure is sky high. Eddie. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"This is the manager and owner, Steve," Duke explains, clearly confused.

There's a little pudgy man standing next to Eddie and Steve shifts eyes to him just as the guy takes a step forward then quickly back again. Good, let him be intimidated. Chin's hand again comes to brace against his shoulder and it's with no small measure of will that he stands with restraint. His hands are shaking in anger, though, and he clenches them into fists.

"Uh, allow me to—I'm—George. George Bean. I'm the manager here, and I found the—that. That badge in your hand. I thought—" the little man is stammering, his voice wavering as he tries to explain but Steve could care less about his timidity and just wants information. "I know you're looking for a missing officer, but I thought I should call—Mr. Stencil. He's the owner of the property and, well..."

Un-fucking-believable. Steve's trying to swallow the rage he feels as the owner continues to yammer on. He can't help but stare at Eddie. Knows his face is filled with a mix of contempt, disbelief and a not so small amount of seething disgust. Danny would have a field day. His eyes are fixed on Eddie. "You. You're the owner."

Eddie's eyes shoot daggers and he's practically sneering as he looks head on back at Steve. "My father, actually. This storage center is one of several properties he purchased on Oahu this past year. Has plans to develop it eventually. It's been more than half empty for a couple of years, apparently. A failing business."

Chin holds up Danny's badge. "When and where, exactly, did you find this?"

"I found it," Bean says and points toward the dumpster. There's trash strewn all over. "Over there. I was cleaning out some old paper files from the office, taking a load of stuff to the dumpster and the gold of it caught my eye." He looks at all of them, eyes resting on the badge in Chin's hand. "I'd heard about the detective missing and, well, just seems odd it's here, right? So I called the police and then Mr. Stencil, here."

"I was shocked when he told me what he found," Eddie adds with a smile Steve would like to physically erase from his face. "I'm only happy to help, of course. Especially considering how close Danno and I have become." Turns to George Bean. "I told you Detective Williams—Danno—and I are good friends, right?" He shifts back to stare evenly at Steve. Scratches his fingers against his chin. "Can't believe Danno might be here, a place my family owns, of all things. I mean, he goes missing, we find him here. What are the odds?"

Chin's squeeze of hand is the only thing preventing Steve from cutting Eddie in half. He barely registers Chin's sarcastic reply. "Yeah. Quite the coincidence."

Steve nods toward the storage buildings and takes a step forward. Menacing, and he wants it that way. "I want in. Now."

"Of course," Eddie replies. "There are three sets of master keys that should override all units' punch codes and open every door. Some units have garage doors coded by the rentor, but all have another entry door for emergency access." He hands two sets to Chin, who hands one to Duke, and holds up the third. "I'm searching, too." 

Steve's heard enough and turns to the manager. "How many units?"

"Well, I believe more than half are empty or abandoned, so if you don't count those, I think—"

"Doesn't matter. How many total?"

The guy looks stricken. "There're four buildings with twelve units on either side, and an extra ten on that last—"

"A hundred units? Jesus." And Danny could be in any one of them. He starts snapping out commands. "Chin, you and Kono take the first building. Duke, George and the officer can take the next, and I," he says as he swipes the keys from Eddie's hands, "am going through the last one."

"I'm going with you," Eddie states.

Steve turns away and heads to the last storage unit.

**

Of course Eddie stays with him, following. Steve can hardly speak to the guy. Has to physically pull himself back from punching him flat out.

They've opened up the farthest building's one side with no luck. Some of the units are entirely empty, others are filled with boxes and musty items and even after breathing what feels like a pound or so of dust, they've found no sign of Danny.

He's here, though. Steve has a sense of him somehow, and so quells the almost frantic pace he wants to set in favor of thoroughly searching behind the loads of old and forgotten crap. If he were to miss finding Danny because he rushed…

Chin meets up with him just as he's sliding down the garage-style door of one of the larger units. "We're done with the first building. Half the units were only 5 foot square. Didn't take long to clear through them. Nothing, though," he says and gives Steve one of his patented Chin-Ho empathetic looks. He knows Chin cares for Danny, Kono, too. This is wrecking all of them.

It's all Steve can do not to feel like he's losing his mind. "He's got to be here, though, Chin. I can—I just feel it, somehow and—"

"Okay, Steve. If he's here, we'll find him."

There's a shout then. Sharp and desperate and he and Chin share a look before turning to race around the other side of the building. Kono and the others come running into view as well. 

"That's Eddie," Steve says. The second unit's door is ajar and they can hear Eddie yelling within.

"It's him! I found him! It's Danno—oh, god. I found him. I found—''

Words are cut off but Steve doesn't care as he and Chin tear into one of the largest storage units yet. It's easily fifteen feet deep but filled with crates and boxes stacked up almost to the ceiling, like a maze of crap and it takes just a second to wind through it—  
a second more for the smell to hit.

Death. Decay.

"God," Chin breathes and gags. Steve glances at him, his own hand covering his nose and mouth in a mirror image. He senses the others squeezing into the door with Kono stepping in after them and then her choked cry of, "oh, my god," reverberates in his chest. He hears someone running away from them and then there's retching but it doesn't matter because Danny—

Eddie about collides into them as he slips from around the stacked boxes. His face glows pale against the dim lighting. He looks wired. "There's a…I don't know. It's dark back here. I found him, though, but there's blood and Danno, he's—I can't tell if he's—"

Danny. That's all Steve needs to hear. Doesn't have time to steel himself for what he might find because it's Danny. Danny.

Shoves Eddie aside and tears around the maze of boxes even as Eddie and Chin crowd the small space after him. The sound of flies fills the area and the smell of death smothers the air and oh, god, there's no way to breathe around the sickening stench of decay. He closes his eyes for just a split second to usher up a prayer and Jesus, please, God—he can't do this—please let it not be Danny. 

"Danny?" he says on a half-whisper filled with hope and dread and yearning and please let Danny be okay. With everything he's got he wants Danny to be alive. Please, dear Lord God, let him be alive. Pleasepleaseplease…

The area tucked between the stacks of boxes and the wall is dark and murky. There's a tiny hole of space thrown into heavy shadow with just a faint tinge of morning light peeking through a dirty sliver of windows at the top of the wall.

There's a body. Steve can just make out a body sprawled supine over the floor in what looks like a pool of black. Blood, he knows—and other fluids, given the malodorous reek invading the place. He chokes out a, "Please, no," with his eyes glued tight for a half second before hearing a soft shuffle of something moving. Shifting.

Eddie shoots past him, crouching low next to a second form tucked within the shadows on the opposite side. "It's okay, Danny. I'm here. Eddie's here. I found you." 

Steve isn't aware of throwing Eddie off to the side. Doesn't register strangling on a rush of fear or sinking down next to Danny's body or scrambling his fingers over Danny's neck in abject desperation to find a pulse. All he knows is Danny's here, and that he has to be alive. When his searching touch finds that threadbare heartbeat, its faint pulse a thin tremble beneath his fingertips, he can't let go. He can't. Doesn't feel the tears that slip down his face.

He just turns to them all and breathes out, "Alive. He's alive."

Danny's here. They found him.

**

Within the deepest, darkest plane of oblivion, a pinprick of sensation penetrates Danny's brain.

**

"He's so hot." Which should have occurred to Steve immediately, he thinks, now that he's actually feeling Danny through the touch of his hands. Danny is throwing off a lot of heat—fever-heat, Steve thinks, and says it again. "Like sick hot."

Chin's crouched beside him. "Kono's calling EMTs," Chin tells him, and with a nod to the other body, adds, "and Max. I told her to wait for them with Officer Paleki. Not sure the two of them could take this and besides, too cramped in here as it is." He reaches a hand to touch Danny's shoulder. "He really is hot, Steve."

"He's sick," Eddie says and for just a moment, Steve had forgotten he was even there. Eddie's staring where Danny lies curled up against the floor. "Good thing I found him, right? Steve?"

Steve ignores him, Suki's words about Eddie ringing in his ears. The less he has to deal with Eddie the better; no way is it just coincidence they've found Danny inside one of Eddie's family's properties. He can't wait to dig deeper into, well, everything. He's going to bust this guy open and take him down hard.

The putrid smell emanating from the other body is almost like a physical thing. It's hard to breathe. Steve nods toward the corpse. "You think that's Makoki?"

"Most likely." Chin meets his eyes. "What the hell do you think went on here, Steve?"

"God knows." It's hard to tell details given the dark of the place. Even with the early morning light filtering through the windows, they can't really figure out what's happened. Can't see to figure out what killed Makoki. There looks to be blood everywhere. Can't get a good look at Danny, either. 

"We've got to get him out of here." Steve can't stand the thought of Danny being trapped in the place for any longer than he has already. Days, for shit's sake.

A few feet away there's a low cot with what looks like a filthy mattress angled half on its side. A few water bottles are strewn around. Dried blood and some sort of visceral fluid have effused to cover part of the flooring. The body and Danny are all but covered with the stuff. It's hard not to gag against the thought or smell.

Steve brushes away a few flies from Danny's face and wonders where Danny's fever heat might be stemming from. "He's sick or hurt or—I can't tell in here."

"You think it's okay to move him?"

Steve sighs. "I don't know." Steve knows if Danny has anything seriously wrong with him, just moving him could exacerbate the issue. He's unconscious and that's not a good sign, either, but the thought of leaving Danny here any longer…

"Why do you think he's half naked? Where're his clothes?" Chin asks.

Eddie moves over them, crawling in the cramped space and reaching for something that's wadded over Danny's feet. "Here, this looks like it might be his—oh, look!"

There's a chain wrapped around Danny's ankle. Steve can just make out the metal links as Eddie picks up Danny's leg. "It runs through a bolt on the floor," Eddie tells him. 

Anger rises through him with the thought of Danny being imprisoned here, chained like an animal. Just what in the fuck did happen here? He looks at Eddie who for the past ten minutes, thankfully, hasn't been the asshole he usually is and says, "Make yourself useful, Ed. Go find us some bolt cutters."

Eddie scrambles away and Steve lets his hand fall lightly against Danny's filthy hair. 

"What the hell, Chin?"

**

Touching. Touching him.

No, not right. Doesn't want.

Stop.

Stop!

**

A beam of light cuts the murkiness.

Duke slides in beside Steve and hands a flashlight to Chin. "Thought this would help things. Medical's ETA is less than five minutes now. How's he doing?"

"Still out," Steve says, stilling somewhat as he thinks he feels Danny shift slightly under his hand.

"Oh, gahh." Chin drops the flashlight beam from where he's been studying the chain around Danny's ankle and looks away.

This doesn't sound good. "What is it? Chin?"

The beam of light highlights the edge of sharp cheekbones as Chin meets his eyes in a look that bodes more bad news. "He's got—his ankle's pretty torn up."

Not surprising. Danny would fight to get away. Still, though, Chin's face is saying there's more to the issue than just some bruising or swelling. "Torn up, how?"

"He's got cuts here, Steve, from the chain, but that's not… There are things…moving. I think he's got maggots in those cuts."

Even Duke makes a noise. Steve closes his eyes for a second; he can't think about that issue right now. Not with everything else they don't know yet. Not with finally finding Danny. He's alive, and that's all that matters right now.

"Okay. Not necessarily a bad thing…just," holds up a hand at the expression both Duke and Chin give him but doesn't go on about the maggots and doesn't even want to discuss how and why he knows it's not as horrific a thing as it sounds. "What about the chain?"

"He's not going anywhere without us cutting him free, that's for sure. Someone has him tied down good."

Danny shifts again, a slight but definite movement and Steve doesn't know whether to frown or smile or laugh or what. Danny's lying mostly on his side, his back toward the boxes and Steve can feel Danny's breath against his arm. Faint exhalations that are beginning to speed up. 

"He coming around?" Duke asks after Danny releases a soft murmur of sound.

"Think, maybe." Steve lets his hand fall a little more against Danny's shoulder, coaxing him gently to open his eyes as he watches Danny's eyelids shift and flutter. He runs his thumb lightly over Danny's parched lips, gently rubbing back and forth along the lower. "Danny?"

There's a long beat, a weirdly calm pause as though every life force were held deathly quiet and immobile with anticipation. Then Danny seems to not ease into gentle awareness, but to somehow be hurled harshly into consciousness as if by some great force.

He yells out, suddenly pushing upright and hissing and screaming at the same time. Arms and legs scrambling, he backs into the boxes behind him, shrieking, flailing and kicking as best he can at everything he can reach.

Steve takes a hand slam to the face, surprise binding him for a moment before trying to calm Danny. "Danny, Danny—it's us. It's me, Steve. Danny—"

Chin's doing the same, hands grasping at Danny's legs to still him as much as to prevent any more damage to either Danny or them. Danny kicks him in the chest and it takes all of the three of them to hold him still.

Steve's eyes are glued to Danny's, but it's clear he's not seeing them whatsoever. Danny's eyes are wide and roving wildly, and then he suddenly stills. Not moving, although he's almost to the point of hyperventilating' it's obvious he's holding himself rigid against their hold on him. 

Steve sees Danny's lips are moving, but the only word he can make out is 'no'. 

"Duke, see if the bus has gotten here yet and tell the EMT's exactly what's going on here." Steve shifts his grip around Danny's wrists, loosens up and looks over to Chin who's wrestled Danny's legs down. Danny's weak, it's easy enough to feel.

"Danny?" Steve tries again, not at all prepared for Danny to suddenly rear up and strike out again. This time Danny's fist catches him squarely in the eye.

Within seconds there's a paramedic bearing down on them, needle in hand. It's just a few words of explanation before he's injecting Danny, and in no time Danny quiets down and becomes docile. His eyelids are half-mast, and he's staring straight at Steve.

"Danny? You're okay. It's me, Steve. You hear me?"

Danny's eyes open slightly wider and Steve's sure he's not registering anything, but then Danny nods. Steve grabs the hand Danny's reaching out toward him, his head dropping with relief when Danny utters, "Steve?"

The word is dry and rasped, faint but there, and Steve can't help the grin that steals over him at this small measure of awareness. "Yeah, Danno. It's me. I'm here."

Danny's words are little more than hoarse panting breaths, but it's clear he's getting agitated again. "No…s' not…not…dead, Steve…"

Steve's not sure he caught every word correctly, not at all sure what Danny was trying to say and then Danny's eyes slip closed and his breathing evens out as he relaxes against them.

Steve presses fingers to his own forehead, the tense ache behind his eyes growing by the minute. Gently fingers the area around his already swollen eye. He looks at Chin. "God. What the hell was that?"

Chin's frowning, clearly equally disturbed. "I don't know, Steve. He seems…"

"Terrified."

**


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. it's getting there to the end. no, really. 
> 
> **

Fresh air. Any air. That's what they all need, especially Danny, but Duke and Paleki found the garage-style door to the place hopelessly broken, its lift mechanism rusted and jammed which makes Steve just want to pull out his hair in frustration. 

It's hot and fetid and Steve isn't sure he's not actually, physically tasting the foulness of the air, it is that horrifically godawful. Glances at the swollen remains of who they assume is Kenny Makoki. He can't begin to imagine how horrific this ordeal has to have been for Danny these past few days. Wonders again over what will become a litany over the next few days, what the hell happened here?

Since Friday, shit. While he was off for his weekend, Danny may very well have been trapped here the entire time, the thought of which makes him want to go ballistic—and he can't even do that. No. Has to stay calm and focused and in the moment to get Danny the help he needs. 

Danny's breathing thickly, like the cold he complained of from a few days ago is still hanging on, and Steve studies his face. There's quite a bit of blood and what looks like bruising over the better part of one side, and one eye looks like it's either swelling up or coming down. Hell. He just looks like so much hell and Steve feels desperate to do _something_ and yet can't do anything.

Kono comes peering around the corner of boxes, her face a pale light within the murky shadows. "Hey, Boss. Max is here with the CSI guys." A smaller woman appears next to her, camera in hand and Steve lifts a hand in greeting. He knows her.

"Hey, Steve," he hears back and watches as she moves around gently and as unobtrusively as she can to snap a few shots. Knows they’ll need photos of the scene. Photos of Danny.

Kono shifts. "I told everyone else to wait outside until we got word from you."

"Okay," he replies, watching as the chain finally gets cut off Danny's leg. Chin has the bolt cutters Eddie had handed to him, and now Eddie's hovering over his shoulder and Steve's about to lose it with the guy. It's tight enough in here and his patience with Eddie is about to blow sky high. "Kono, take Eddie—Mr. Stencil—and wait outside. Let Max know we're about done."

"No. I'm staying here, with Danno," Eddie insists, protesting as Kono takes his arm. 

"Lets go," Kono says and Steve watches Eddie yank his arm away. 

"Not going anywhere. I'm staying here."

Kono's about to wrestle the guy to the ground, and while Steve's silently cheering on the idea, his tolerance is shot. He gets up and pretty much drags Eddie out, Kono following after.

Points a finger in Eddie's face. "You. Stay here—out of the way."

Eddie's face pinches, eyes ablaze. "Don't touch me. Do not fuckin'—I found him! If it weren't for me, you'd still be looking for him. If it weren't for me, he'd be dead! You had no clue where he was!"

Steve is this close to punching him. "Did you?"

Eddie shoves him again. "I found him! You have no idea how I…"

Eddie's words trail off and Steve's had enough. Knows Eddie is involved and goddamn, he's going to nail this guy. "This is a crime scene, you jackass. I don't need it any more corrupted than it is already, so you're going to stay out here." Steps forward, closer. "Got it?"

Steve heads back to Danny's side, pushing Eddie out of his way.

There's a second paramedic wheeling a gurney, Steve squeezes past him to settle down by Danny side. A second later, the guy appears and slides in next to his partner, both of them looking at Danny. "Got him relaxed, okay, that's good. So what else we got, Sammy?"

Steve watches Sammy hook up an IV bag to Danny. "This is Commander McGarrett, Five-0," then nods toward Danny, "and Detective Williams."

"I know your reputation, Commander. And Five-O. You all do good work." The new paramedic glances at him, looks around the room and Steve has to give him credit for not flinching because the whole place is pretty much a scene out of a horror movie. "He's your partner? The detective that's been missing?"

"Yeah," Steve replies and then wonders what sort of expression he's wearing because the new paramedic, J. Winter his nametag reads, suddenly presses a hand over his shoulder and squeezes. "We're gonna take good care of him, don’t worry."

Sammy rattles off Danny's information to his partner, vitals and what all he's administered at this point which has been pretty much to just cover the dehydration as far as Steve can figure. That, and whatever they gave Danny to calm him.

Steve nods, but it's Sammy who speaks up. "We need to get the Detective secured and on his way before CSI gets back here. Commander? I can use your help moving him." He looks up at his J.Winter. "Jared, just stay over there; the fewer people back here, the better. Go ahead and slide the backboard to us and we'll get Danny, here, to the stretcher."

Steve's studying Danny who remains fairly out of it as he lies on his right side, back pressed against some of the boxes. With the addition of several more flashlights, Steve's had a better look at the damage done and it just makes him angry. Clearly someone hit him hard—the blood, his eye—but it's hard to tell where else he may be damaged as he's literally covered in dried blood and other…stuff. They're all trying to ignore how the place reeks of effluvium. How Danny does. How there's a dead body decaying next to them.

Christ, he thinks again. How did Danny survive these past few days like this?

Sammy looks at both Steve and Chin. "Okay. We're gonna slowly roll him forward onto the board. We'll carry him out to the stretcher and then roll him onto his back when we get there, assuming we don't discover any injuries on his backside. You two ready?"

Steve nods, and hears Chin's quiet yeah, then the three of them are easing Danny forward until he's lying face down on the board and then…

"What in the hell is that?"

There's a swollen, dark mass of congealed who the hell knows what on Danny's lower back, pooling just at the upper part of the swell of his ass. Chin grabs a flashlight, pulls down the back of Danny's stained boxers that are partially adhered to the area, and then it's suddenly illuminated in all its gory color. Good god.

"Oh, god!"

"Jesus, that's—what _is_ that?"

"Okay, back up, please," Sammy instructs them at the same time he's pulling items from his case as he's studying the wound. "Jared, we got a possible GSW or knife to the lower back. Probable penetrating trauma, it's hard to tell in here." He yanks Danny's boxers even lower and covers the damaged area with gauze, taping it down and then instructing them to grab the handles of the board. "On three," he says, wasting no time or words and they lift as one. "Coming out!"

Steve's shaking. Or feels like he's shaking, it's hard to figure, exactly, because numbness is also setting in; numb and dazed and what the hell is that? What is that on Danny's back? "Chin, I don't even—what the hell?"

"I don’t know, Steve. I don't know what that was." Chin looks pale and confused, exactly how Steve is feeling.

Jared moves in to help Danny onto the waiting gurney and then he's being wheeled toward the ambulance. Away, and Steve just wants to yell to them to wait. Wait. He needs another minute. Another hour. He needs to know what that is on Danny's back—how he's been hurt. Is he shot? Is he okay? What?

The sun's bright and shining as he and Chin follow the stretcher outside, and he squints to take in the scene. There are several police cars now, the waiting ambulance, the coroner's van, CSU van, everyone needed to dissect a crime scene. Thank God they found Danny alive. 

Max gives him a quick greeting before rushing in with the crime scene guys following after.

Jared's already climbed into the driver's seat of the ambulance, and Sammy is seated inside the back next to Danny, one arm pulling the door shut as he looks around and Steve catches his eyes. "Commander? You riding?"

"I'll go," Eddie says, rushing toward the ambulance.

No. No way in hell and Steve moves to block Eddie from getting closer, actually colliding with him, elbowing him aside and watching Eddie stumble away.

"You see that? That's assault," Eddie shouts, red-faced and pointing and clearly enraged. "Assault! You all saw him attack me!"

Unraveling, Steve thinks. Eddie looks like he's coming apart.

Sammy calls out to him again. "Commander?"

Chin gives him a shove and Kono wraps a hand around his arm as he moves to climb into the ambulance. "Go take care of Danny, Boss. We got all this. Go."

**

Something's different, Danny can sense it. Feel it.

He's groggy, though. Sluggish. Can't think and he has to because—because Kenny Makoki's here somewhere. Right here. Here with him. Dead—but not dead, and he has to watch him. Stay awake and make sure Kenny doesn't, doesn't…

"I killed you," he says. Thinks he says—are his lips even moving? "I shot you."

Flinches when a voice by his head comes right back at him. "What? Danny? Danny?"

Makoki. It's Makoki.

**

Steve's not allowed back in the emergency area, and so stands frozen, his fingers raking through his hair as he watches them whisk Danny behind closed doors. It's so reminiscent of the sarin incident that he can hardly stand it, and he's almost paralyzed with the not knowing. It takes his phone ringing to wake him.

"Yeah, Chin. What've you found?" Because there just has to be something under that horror show that will tell him more. Explain what the hell Danny was mumbling about in the ambulance.

"Steve," Chin's says. "First, Danny. How is he?"

Steve walks outside and his eyes rake the sky as he takes a deep breath. Of course they want to know and he wishes he had more to tell them. "Not good. Out of it. Delirious, or—I don't know."

"He's awake?"

"Yeah, sort of. In the ambulance—but rambling. Talking nonsense. He kept talking to Makoki or something. I don't know, exactly. He wasn't very lucid and what I did get out of what he was saying doesn't make much sense." Danny looked so panicked and scared, clearly unsure as to what was happening around him.

"Okay," Chin says. "Okay. So what about the damage to his back? They say anything about what that is? Was he shot or—"

Steve presses a hand to his eyes in an attempt to stave off the building tension. "No, I don't know. They're thinking maybe a knife but it's hard to tell until the doctors examine him. He's back with them now. It's godawful, though, Chin. He was butchered back there. Not just a stab wound but he's torn up and I don't—I can't even imagine what the hell—"

Words dam in his throat and he hears the waver in his own voice. Whispers the next because he just can't say it any louder. "He's scared, Chin. Really scared. Every move or shift, he jumps and—I've never seen him like this. Like he's shell-shocked." Every turn or move in the ambulance had Danny jumping. He was holding himself rigid against an enemy that wasn't there. Shell-shocked, which is as close an explanation as Steve can think of to explain how Danny's acting. God knows he's seen those symptoms enough to know.

"Steve. Steve—he's going to be okay. We'll get him through this. All of us." Appreciates the way Chin sounds so together, even though Steve is sure he's feeling as desperate as he does.

"Yeah," Steve says, nodding. Chin can't see him. Lets go a long shuddering breath. Danny will be okay—he has to be. Repeats himself for his own benefit. "Yeah, I know."

Chin's voice is calm on the other end, and Steve gives up silent thanks for the stability of his team.

"Okay. Danny'll be okay, Steve. You know this. So here, CSI are going over everything, and Max is with the body now. Pretty sure it's Makoki. Looks like he's been shot. Probably stabbed, as well. We have a photo for ID. His body's not so deteriorated that we can't tell it's him, but the heat of the past few days, being trapped in what was essentially a sweat box, well, you saw. Conditions didn't help things, that's for sure."

"God, and Danny trapped in there with him all this time. Shit."

"Yeah."

"Commander?" A voice calls and he turns to see a nurse looking his way. "You can come back now."

"Chin. I gotta go. I'll call you in a bit." Hurries over to where an ER doc is motioning him over. 

"Danny?" He's ready to charge back there.

The doctor holds him up. "Couple of things, first. He called out for you a bit ago, and you can go back, but I need to keep him from becoming agitated. We have him still lightly sedated, enough to take the edge off."

"He's going to be okay, though, right?"

A nod, then, "You saw him. He's beat up pretty badly. He's got massive infection and is dehydrated. He's got a concussion due to two pretty intense blows to the head."

"Serious?"

"Marginal, but combined with everything else, he's not great. He's got stitches to close a fairly deep laceration on his scalp. One eye's swollen, but not damaged, fortunately. There are abrasions on his palm and a pretty nasty infection around his right ankle. He tore himself up pretty good. The EMTs told us about the grisly conditions where he was found. Sounds horrific."

To say the least, Steve thinks. "Yeah, it's—" he can't even think to describe just how truly ghastly it was.

"Okay, well, of course we've cleaned up the wound sites, but don't be surprised that he's still pretty much a mess. I'll have someone work on getting the rest of him cleaned off as best they can down here; I don't want him covered in that any longer than necessary. If he's up to it, he'll be able to shower and wash his hair when they get him up to a room."

Steve's nodding, taking it all in and none of it's a surprise. God, Danny. "And his back? What—"

The doctor frowns. "Well, that's one I want to talk with you about. When he first came in we thought he'd been cut up. Stabbed. There's enough edema it wasn't apparent, initially, but it's actually a bite."

What? "A bite. What, you mean, bite? Like a dog bite?"

"No, Commander. Like a human bite. And not just one."

Feeling like the blood's drained from his brain, Steve draws in a long breath. This is crazy and he actually feels nauseous.

"What's worse, Commander, is, well—it's like he's been chewed on. I've not seen anything quite like it, I can tell you. I've brought in a plastic surgeon to look at the area, see if we can reduce the damage and piece the tissue together once we get the infection cleared, but no matter what we do, he's going to have a pretty vicious scar."

The lightheaded feeling won't go away, and Steve tries to pull thoughts together because there are things he should be asking, he's sure, but it's hard to wrap his head around…god, a human bite. Fucking Makoki.

"It's pretty swollen still, and filled with infection, we'll know better once that clears."

Which reminds him. "Oh, god, there were—"

"Maggots? Yes," the doctor finishes. "Not pleasant an idea to think about, I realize—"

"Or see."

There's a laugh. "Or see, right. Honestly, though, as bad as it is, those little guys may very well have kept that infection from truly raging out of control."

Steve nods. He already knew this about maggots. Had them in a wound of his own once and knows all about how they can actually eat away dead tissue, keeping a wound clean. "Okay. So, how long will you be keeping him?" Rachel. He's got to call Rachel.

"I'd like to monitor him overnight, then we'll see how he's doing. Physically, if we can get the fever and infection managed, he can possibly go home later tomorrow. His mental state is my concern for now. I've asked the attending from mental health to come down and make an evaluation at some point tomorrow, so you're aware. He's been through serious trauma, as you know."

A picture flashes through his head of Danny in that storage area. God, does he know. "That's putting it mildly."

"Just know, it's not only the external wounds that need healing." The doctor shifts open a hanging curtain. "Come back with him until we get a room ready."

**

Something's changed. Danny can sense it. Feel it, but he's not sure…

"Danny?"

His eyes won't open, or…no, one. One won't, the other's…open? Is it open?  
There's white. Light. Too bright… Grace, Gracie would like that.

He giggles and closes his eye. Floats.

Then something…something… Moves. He can sense it. Him, it's him. No.

"Danny. It's okay."

What? A voice, too close. "Don't," he chokes. Rasps. Hurts.

Weight on his shoulder then, and he flinches. Stills. Can't move, he's frozen with fear.  
Kenny, god, nonono—he can't do this…

"Here, take a sip."

Something goes in his mouth—it's in his mouth—and he can't, he can't. 

Jerks and shifts and away. He's got to get away but he can't because his leg, chained—oh, god—he's chained and then he can't move at all with Kenny on top of him, biting him, but his gun is over there if he can reach it and something touches his face and then holds him down and he can't be here he can't do this any second longer nonono and he screams and screams and screams…

**

This isn't happening. Steve's heart is racing, Danny is screaming, and two nurses rush in and surround the bed…and Danny still screams. And screams.

"I was just giving him water," he tells them, his own voice sounding so uncharacteristically unsure, and he's never unsure about anything, but this is _Danny_ Tries to explain because Danny just went off and he—he was just trying to help. Was just giving him some water.

Within seconds Danny has stilled, calmed, and one nurse leaves and the other turns to him, her hands fiddling with one of Danny's IV tubes. "He's okay now. You can come over. He's a little out of it, but awake. He can hear you. Try and keep him calm."

He knows he needs to call Rachel as soon as possible. And Denning. And Chin and Kono, but he can't leave Danny without knowing he's still not living in that place.

Creeps up slowly, to the bed. Danny's eyes are closed and he's breathing softly. Like he's asleep. There's a white bandage covering part of his forehead, bruising runs into his hair. Which is still crusted and stiff in places with…that stuff. It just makes Steve heart tear.

"Danny?" he calls out softly, reaching out a hand but stopping himself from touching. Doesn't want a repeat of what just happened. "Danny? It's me. It's Steve. Can you hear me?" 

Danny shifts slightly. He's on his side, the part of him not covered by a sheet just filthy and Steve wonders when they're going to come clean him up. Shouldn't have to live like this one moment longer, for shit's sake. "You're safe, D. We found you. You're okay now."

Leans down to crouch in front of Danny's face, their faces level and watching as Danny's eyes slip open half-mast. "Danny?"

Danny's good eye opens a little wider, he tenses and Steve watches as he struggles to find focus. 

Tries again. "Danny? It's me. It's Steve. I'm here."

"Steve?" Danny blinks, and his voice sounds strained and hoarse and tentative. Totally unsure and Steve hears him again whisper, "Steve?"

Then Danny sees him, really sees him with enough degree of recognition, and Steve revels in the giant wave of relief that washes over him. Blinks away watery eyes as Danny squints up at him, and then he's touching. Can't help but let his fingers trace lightly over Danny's face, over his lips and over his hair and he doesn’t care that Danny's still half filthy with it all.

"Steve," Danny whispers again, he's reaching out and Steve lets their fingers intertwine. "Steven," Danny repeats and laughs, and Steve laughs with him thinking his name has never sounded so good. Watches with his own emotions opened up to the raw as Danny laughs, then giggles and then, finally, cries, and it's all good, Steve thinks. It's all great because he's here and Danny's here, clutching him—and they're going to be okay.

"Okay," Steve tells him, gripping him in return. "You're gonna be okay."


End file.
